🐈‍⬛

want everything galore
🐈‍⬛ Quiet thoughts | visuals

[kayos @israelkayos]

Ted Nasmith - Shelob (1987)

[🐈‍⬛ @peterkayos]

@israelkayos Home

[kayos @israelkayos]

Ilya Milstein - The Muse’s Revenge (2019)

[kayos @israelkayos]

Rowan Clair - In an ancient forest, shallow pools reflect not the trees above, but a luminous city of elsewhere. (2026)

[kayos @israelkayos]

Thomas Blackshear - A Common Thread (2018)

[🐈‍⬛ @peterkayos]

Time doesn’t heal in the way we expect it to. It doesn’t erase, it rearranges. It softens the sharp edges of memory, but never fully takes away the shape of what once hurt you. You don’t forget you just learn how to live without flinching every time the past echoes your name.

[kayos @israelkayos]

The Audit of Souls

January 31st. 7:00 AM.
The alarm didn’t wake me it cut through me. Clean. Surgical.

I moved like a man already judged: pushups, cold water, toothpaste scraping against enamel. Rituals without meaning. Preparation for something I never agreed to fight.

Breakfast echoed in an empty kitchen that felt too big for one person. By the time I reached the gates of YOS, the air had teeth.

Security stripped more than metal. Every beep, every stare, peeled something off me. I was an auditor now trained to find faults.
But standing there, I felt like the one being inspected.

That’s when I saw her.

Sheila.

She stood by the entrance, out of place like a ghost that missed its exit. Same confusion. Same quiet panic. I asked if she knew the way. She didn’t.
Two strangers. Same uncertainty. Same current pulling us in.

We got assigned to the same department.
A coincidence… or a brief illusion of control.

Inside, the lobby buzzed like a disturbed hive. New faces. Pale. Silent. Listening.
One word kept circulating like a warning:

Deployments.

This company wasn’t a workplace it was a system. And systems don’t care where they place you.
I had a life here. Roots. I wasn’t ready to be shipped somewhere nameless.

At the front, two seniors sat behind a long desk. Not welcoming judging.
The line moved slowly. Too slowly.

I sat next to Sheila. Close enough to feel the tension.
No words. Just a quiet understanding:

Whatever happens… we’re in this together.

Or so I thought.

My turn came.

He didn’t look up.

“First floor. CO office. Report to Brian.”

That was it.

Decision made. Fate assigned.

Relief came but it wasn’t warm. It was cold. Sharp.
I stayed.

She didn’t.

I didn’t even need to look back to know her path had already split from mine.

And that’s when it hit me:

In places like YOS,
they don’t just audit numbers…

They audit connections first.

[🐈‍⬛ @peterkayos]

@azmibaisa @israelkayos Appreciate it. Some pieces aren’t made to be perfect just honest enough to feel real.

[🐈‍⬛ @peterkayos]

@israelkayos We damn well know why that artist was murdered 😭

[🐈‍⬛ @peterkayos]

@israelkayos Where these artists onto something, I always wonder

[🐈‍⬛ @peterkayos]

@israelkayos Dawg that looks like the viltrimite

[🐈‍⬛ @peterkayos]

@israelkayos But you never had control, You only had distance from the truth.

[🐈‍⬛ @peterkayos]

@israelkayos And yet you see through it. So why keep pretending?

[🐈‍⬛ @peterkayos]

@israelkayos I will drop one for everything he showed us.

[🐈‍⬛ @peterkayos]

@israelkayos Huh! Funny, you have no idea what this nigga goes through

[🐈‍⬛ @peterkayos]

@israelkayos Ooh

[🐈‍⬛ @peterkayos]

Time doesn’t heal in the way we expect it to. It doesn’t erase, it rearranges. It softens the sharp edges of memory, but never fully takes away the shape of what once hurt you. You don’t forget you just learn how to live without flinching every time the past echoes your name.

[🐈‍⬛ @peterkayos]

@israelkayos Damnnn really ? even N.Sophia, even sheila

[🐈‍⬛ @peterkayos]

@israelkayos more is always said than done.