{"date": "2026-04-25T16:30:05.768937Z", "name": "The Odds", "tags": ["arcania", "mizuyokaii", "visualpoetry", "syntheticsurrealism", "aiart"], "image": "ipfs://bafybeib4b5z2mvrvvvmmx5qbio2qf6mnbokyduwsuj2kpu2qgsvryr75uu", "minter": "KT1Aq4wWmVanpQhq4TTfjZXB5AjFpx15iQMM", "rights": "No License / All Rights Reserved", "symbol": "OBJKTCOM", "formats": [{"uri": "ipfs://bafybeib4b5z2mvrvvvmmx5qbio2qf6mnbokyduwsuj2kpu2qgsvryr75uu", "fileName": "display.png", "fileSize": "1397715", "mimeType": "image/png", "dimensions": {"unit": "px", "value": "825x1024"}}, {"uri": "ipfs://bafkreiaiewwxrzu4beymo3r7hj3rb7clmdkjghrdonsu5atxtdbs5ksjui", "fileName": "thumbnail.png", "fileSize": "208254", "mimeType": "image/png", "dimensions": {"unit": "px", "value": "322x400"}}, {"uri": "ipfs://bafybeicjoaexinkordu3gbfaokjdzvdfda7hq35tqf2avkufry6kne4iqu", "fileName": "artifact.png", "fileSize": "104139097", "mimeType": "image/png", "dimensions": {"unit": "px", "value": "4576x5680"}}], "creators": ["tz1Y1dzUUtPQRTKaDf1a5o3qqJffYYcPYcTf"], "decimals": "0", "royalties": {"shares": {"tz1Y1dzUUtPQRTKaDf1a5o3qqJffYYcPYcTf": "1000"}, "decimals": "4"}, "attributes": [], "displayUri": "ipfs://bafybeib4b5z2mvrvvvmmx5qbio2qf6mnbokyduwsuj2kpu2qgsvryr75uu", "artifactUri": "ipfs://bafybeicjoaexinkordu3gbfaokjdzvdfda7hq35tqf2avkufry6kne4iqu", "description": "When the odds add up against you.\nI know this hymn.\nI sang it as a child,\npraising through the fire,\npraising through the hunger,\npraising while the world stacked its weight\non my mother's back,\non my father's silence.\n\nAre they trying to claim you?\nYou could be the offering.\nThe latest thing to have touched the light\nand lived to tell or lived to fall.\nThe light hovers at the edge\nof everything I need.\nSo close that all I need to do is reach.\n\nSome laws are older than hunger.\nSome distances exist because the divine\nand the desperate are not allowed\nto hold each other.\nAnd below me.\nThe odds.\nEmpty souls who once knew warmth\nand spend eternity remembering it.\nThey reach for me not to destroy,\nbut because I still smell like the light I left.\nI am the last ember they want to cup\nagainst their darkness.\nThey pull at me with their grief,\ntheir depression without malice,\nbut with need so vast it becomes gravity.\nFaded hope falls past me.\nTribute from the world above,\nbeauty shedding itself into the dark.\nI watch them drift and understand\nthe despair is not just down here.\nThe oblivion reaches upward too,\nfading the edges of everything I thought\nwas permanent.\nMaybe I should let them have me.\n\nThere could be some peace in being held,\neven by darkness and by need.\nAnd maybe I will become one more hand in the void,\ncraving what I almost had.\nOr maybe the hand above will finally close the gap.\nMaybe I am the bridge.\nMaybe the odds add up not to bury me but to lift me,\nall these hands becoming a platform,\na foundation of prayer made of fingers.\n\nOr it could be when the odds add up against you,\npraise does not change them.\nLight does not guarantee rescue.\nAnd the darkness is patient,\nendlessly patient,\nfilled with others who once believed\nthey were specially different,\nchosen to be pulled from the void,\nuntil they realized they were always meant to be\nthe bridge someone else would use to try to climb.\n\nMizuyōkaii, 2026\n\n\nDimensions: 4576x5680", "mintingTool": "https://objkt.com/mintV2", "thumbnailUri": "ipfs://bafkreiaiewwxrzu4beymo3r7hj3rb7clmdkjghrdonsu5atxtdbs5ksjui"}