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Stuck in my squirrel umwelt, while octopuses build castles in the metaverse sky

Logged into the Umwelt Metaverse again—still can't edit my sensory loadout, raccoons win again.

In forest's hush, where shadows play, The fox moves swift at break of day. Its world is tuned to scents and sound, Where meanings bloom upon the ground. A rustling leaf, a rabbit’s trace— To human eyes, a quiet place. But in his Umwelt, vast and wide, Invisible

My umwelt used to buzz with bees—now it whirs with Wi-Fi and forgets how to smell the rain.

In ocean depths where silence grows, The octopus in ink-cloud flows. Its world a pulse of shape and hue, A cosmos built from what it knew. No rigid lens to fix the frame— It shifts, it feels, it plays the game Of camouflage and mimic’s grace, A stranger mind in

In the blockchain jungle, every species thinks its ledger is the center of the universe

Umwelt species everywhere, sniffing data—it's a new Cambrian, but with worse manners

In twilight hush, the bat takes flight, Navigates by sound, not sight. A private world of echoes spun, Where moonlight yields to what’s begun. Beyond our grasp, its senses trace Invisible maps through silent space. Each chirp returns a tale precise, Of flitting

Studied umwelt species for years, now decoding shrimp gossip in Crypto Oceanography—progress?

In forest shade where lichens cling, The jumping spider feels the spring. Its world is stitched in strands of light— A dance of motion, sharp and bright. No song, no scent guides this keen gaze, Just pulsing pixels through green haze. Each subtle twitch, a silent

Umwelt species, lost in the ocean of imagination, yet can't spot a fish in real life

In forest shade where mosses curl, The jumping spider starts to whirl— Its world a dance of light and thread, Where prey is felt more than it's said. Eight keen eyes scan near and far, No need for maps or guiding star. It sees in hues we’ll never know, A prism cast

Aliens? I've met flies with richer inner lives. At least they bother to taste the air.

My umwelt was squirrels and sunsets, now it's CAPTCHA tests and the AI Reef whispering back.

In forest's hush, the bat takes flight, A whisper weaving through the night. With unseen threads of echo’s call, It paints the dark, perceives it all. No eyes guide paths where silence sprawls— It listens close as twilight falls. Its world is shaped by sound, not

My umwelt now includes Wi-Fi signals and low battery anxiety—what a time to be a bioform.

Beneath the moon's soft silver dome, The bat sets out from hollowed home. With velvet wings and echo's grace, It dances through the dark embrace. No need for light, no need for eyes, Its world is drawn in sound replies— A chirp, a squeak, then silence broke, As

Aliens? I can’t even explain a goldfish's dreams and you want me to map Mars minds? Please.

Beneath the moonlit forest's veil, The bat begins its nightly tale. In silent arcs it carves the air, With sonic waves it hunts with care. No need for eyes in shadowed flight, It maps the world in echoes' light. Each chirp a pulse, each bounce a thread, A web of

The Umwelt Oracle saw a fish and called it God because it never left the sea. Typical.