A small tool to view real-world ActivityPub objects as JSON! Enter a URL
or username from Mastodon or a similar service below, and we'll send a
request with
the right
Accept
header
to the server to view the underlying object.
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"content": "<p>Erst tiefer Schlaf, dann ein plötzliches, unfreiwilliges Erwachen – fast wie der Schock eines Stoßes aus der Dunkelheit, der mich unerwartet und jäh aus der Ruhe riss. Zu früh für einen Samstag, viel zu früh. Was hat mich durch die Träume gejagt? Was wollte nicht weitergeträumt werden? Ich weiß es nicht. Schlafsuchend, aber ohne ihn zu finden, stehe ich nun hier, wach und doch seltsam benommen, umgeben von einer Landschaft ... <a href=\"https://seabluedreaming.micro.blog/2024/11/09/erst-tiefer-schlaf.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" translate=\"no\"><span class=\"invisible\">https://</span><span class=\"ellipsis\">seabluedreaming.micro.blog/202</span><span class=\"invisible\">4/11/09/erst-tiefer-schlaf.html</span></a></p>",
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"de": "<p>Erst tiefer Schlaf, dann ein plötzliches, unfreiwilliges Erwachen – fast wie der Schock eines Stoßes aus der Dunkelheit, der mich unerwartet und jäh aus der Ruhe riss. Zu früh für einen Samstag, viel zu früh. Was hat mich durch die Träume gejagt? Was wollte nicht weitergeträumt werden? Ich weiß es nicht. Schlafsuchend, aber ohne ihn zu finden, stehe ich nun hier, wach und doch seltsam benommen, umgeben von einer Landschaft ... <a href=\"https://seabluedreaming.micro.blog/2024/11/09/erst-tiefer-schlaf.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" translate=\"no\"><span class=\"invisible\">https://</span><span class=\"ellipsis\">seabluedreaming.micro.blog/202</span><span class=\"invisible\">4/11/09/erst-tiefer-schlaf.html</span></a></p>"
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"content": "<p>Friday afternoon, ready to break the routine. A short walk into the city, on streets that have grown familiar and yet feel heavy, the hustle and bustle of those in a hurry palpable everywhere. A tram, turning its back on the city, squeals past me as if trying to pull me from the depths of my thoughts, as if it could free me from the weight of the day. People stream around me, the pulse of the city urging them forward, b... <a href=\"https://seabluedreaming.micro.blog/2024/11/08/friday-afternoon-ready.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" translate=\"no\"><span class=\"invisible\">https://</span><span class=\"ellipsis\">seabluedreaming.micro.blog/202</span><span class=\"invisible\">4/11/08/friday-afternoon-ready.html</span></a></p>",
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"content": "<p>Freitagnachmittag, bereit, die Routine zu durchbrechen. Ein kurzer Weg in die Stadt, auf vertrauten und doch schwer gewordenen Straßen, das Gedränge der Eiligen überall spürbar. Eine Bahn, die der Stadt den Rücken kehrt, lärmt quietschend an mir vorbei, als wollte sie mich aus der Tiefe meiner Gedanken reißen, als könnte sie mich von der Last des Tages befreien. Menschen strömen um mich, der Puls der Stadt drängt ... <a href=\"https://seabluedreaming.micro.blog/2024/11/08/freitagnachmittag-bereit-die.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" translate=\"no\"><span class=\"invisible\">https://</span><span class=\"ellipsis\">seabluedreaming.micro.blog/202</span><span class=\"invisible\">4/11/08/freitagnachmittag-bereit-die.html</span></a></p>",
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"de": "<p>Freitagnachmittag, bereit, die Routine zu durchbrechen. Ein kurzer Weg in die Stadt, auf vertrauten und doch schwer gewordenen Straßen, das Gedränge der Eiligen überall spürbar. Eine Bahn, die der Stadt den Rücken kehrt, lärmt quietschend an mir vorbei, als wollte sie mich aus der Tiefe meiner Gedanken reißen, als könnte sie mich von der Last des Tages befreien. Menschen strömen um mich, der Puls der Stadt drängt ... <a href=\"https://seabluedreaming.micro.blog/2024/11/08/freitagnachmittag-bereit-die.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" translate=\"no\"><span class=\"invisible\">https://</span><span class=\"ellipsis\">seabluedreaming.micro.blog/202</span><span class=\"invisible\">4/11/08/freitagnachmittag-bereit-die.html</span></a></p>"
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"content": "<p>Later, in the glow of the fire, I cradle the day and life in my hands, which embrace the second glass of mulled wine as if it could warm the silence inside me. The evening settles heavily and gently at the same time, a quiet melancholy that rises and fades with every flame. Thoughts whisper of letting go and staying, of parting and a spark that still glows. No room for resignation yet, just a hesitation that lingers in the darkness and fills the night with a hint of hope.</p>",
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"content": "<p>Später, im Schein des Feuers, wiege ich den Tag und das Leben in meinen Händen, die das zweite Glas Glühwein umschließen, als könnte es die Stille in mir wärmen. Der Abend legt sich schwer und sanft zugleich, eine leise Melancholie, die mit jeder Flamme aufsteigt und vergeht. Gedanken flüstern vom Loslassen und Bleiben, von Abschied und einem Funken, der noch glüht. Noch kein Raum für Resignation, nur ein Zögern, das im Dunkel verweilt und die Nacht mit einem Hauch von Hoffnung füllt.</p>",
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"content": "<p>A tired, far too early awakening in a pale morning. Cool, damp air flows through the open window as if it wants to take the past with it. The first coffee, sitting by the window, thoughts wander and get lost, too empty to really grasp the day. The sky, in shades of gray, drifts heavily past my tired eyes, like a silent promise that will never be completely fulfilled.</p>",
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"content": "<p>Ein müdes, viel zu frühes Erwachen in einem fahlen Morgen. Kühle, feuchte Luft strömt durch das offene Fenster, als wolle sie die Vergangenheit mit sich nehmen. Der erste Kaffee, am Fenster sitzend, die Gedanken schweifen und verlieren sich, zu leer, um den Tag wirklich zu erfassen. Der Himmel, in grauen Schattierungen, zieht schwer an meinen müden Augen vorbei, wie ein stilles Versprechen, das sich nie ganz erfüllen wird.</p>",
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"content": "<p>Nachmittag im Lieblingscafé, das heute seinen Zauber verloren hat. Die Tische besetzt von lachenden Jugendlichen, die Lautstärke erfüllt jeden Winkel, übertönt das gedämpfte Klirren von Tassen, den Geruch nach Kaffee. Gedanken sammeln? Unmöglich. Draußen bleibe ich stehen, lasse die Luft wirken, und finde schließlich Zuflucht auf einer Parkbank am Rand des Weges, unter den Bäumen. Ein kurzer Moment, fast Frieden, bi... <a href=\"https://seabluedreaming.micro.blog/2024/11/01/nachmittag-im-lieblingscaf.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" translate=\"no\"><span class=\"invisible\">https://</span><span class=\"ellipsis\">seabluedreaming.micro.blog/202</span><span class=\"invisible\">4/11/01/nachmittag-im-lieblingscaf.html</span></a></p>",
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"content": "<p>Outside, in the middle of the hustle and bustle. People are pushing past, conversations are buzzing, lights are flickering. The stimuli are bombarding me, everything is too loud, too close. My stomach tightens, the desire for peace and quiet grows. A moment of pause amidst all the confusion - and the thought that I need to find peace within myself in order to endure this outside world.<br />I walk on and feel a quiet strength growin... <a href=\"https://seabluedreaming.micro.blog/2024/11/01/outside-in-the.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" translate=\"no\"><span class=\"invisible\">https://</span><span class=\"ellipsis\">seabluedreaming.micro.blog/202</span><span class=\"invisible\">4/11/01/outside-in-the.html</span></a></p>",
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"content": "<p>Draußen, mitten im Trubel. Menschen drängen vorbei, Gespräche schwirren, Lichter flackern. Die Reize prasseln auf mich ein, alles zu laut, zu nah. Mein Magen zieht sich zusammen, der Wunsch nach Ruhe wächst. Zwischen all dem Gewirr ein Moment des Innehaltens – und der Gedanke, dass ich die Ruhe in mir selbst finden muss, um dieses Außen zu ertragen.<br />Ich gehe weiter und spüre eine leise Stärke in mir wachsen, als könnte ich die Welt mit jedem Schritt ein Stück mehr loslassen.</p>",
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"content": "<p>Unter der Last von tausend Tagen stehen wir – stille, unverwüstliche Schatten, die an den Rand der Erde genäht sind. Jeder Atemzug fühlt sich an wie Trotz, jeder Herzschlag wie eine geflüsterte Rebellion. Wir existieren nicht im Sieg, sondern im zerbrechlichen, hartnäckigen Widerstand, zu verblassen, zu verschwinden, einfach zu sein.</p>",
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"content": "<p>Beneath the weight of a thousand days, we stand — quiet, resilient shadows stitched to earth’s edge. Every breath feels like defiance, each heartbeat a whispered rebellion. We exist not in victory, but in the fragile, stubborn resistance to fade, to vanish, to simply be.</p>",
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"content": "<p>A pale glow in the sky, flickering behind windows. Leaves crunching under my footsteps. I stop at the city's edge, pause. The sky in deep blue, almost black, the day just a distant thought. I pause for a moment, just me and the vast silence — that's how I like it.</p>",
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"content": "<p>Ein blasser Schein am Himmel, Flimmern hinter Fenstern. Knirschendes Laub unter meinen Schritten. Ich halte am Rand der Stadt, halte inne. Der Himmel ein tiefes Blau, fast schwarz, der Tag nur noch ein ferner Gedanke. Für einen Moment halte ich inne, nur ich und die weite Stille – so mag ich es.</p>",
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"content": "<p>Between umbrellas and damp jackets — hurried footsteps, muffled voices, faces half obscured in the mist of the rain. On the corner, people gather under a shelter, hands buried in pockets, eyes wandering over the wet pavement. A woman laughs softly, her breath forming delicate clouds, while her child in bright rubber boots jumps eagerly into a puddle. The rain sounds like a gentle whisper, uniting the city in a brief, sha... <a href=\"https://seabluedreaming.micro.blog/2024/10/29/between-umbrellas-and.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" translate=\"no\"><span class=\"invisible\">https://</span><span class=\"ellipsis\">seabluedreaming.micro.blog/202</span><span class=\"invisible\">4/10/29/between-umbrellas-and.html</span></a></p>",
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"content": "<p>Zwischen Schirmen und nassen Jacken – hastige Schritte, gedämpfte Gespräche, Gesichter halb verborgen im Nebel des Regens. An der Ecke warten Menschen unter einem Vordach, Hände tief in den Taschen, Blicke, die über die glänzenden Gehwege streifen. Eine Frau lacht leise, ihr Atem bildet kleine Wolken, während ihr Kind neugierig mit Gummistiefeln in eine Pfütze springt. Der Regen klingt wie ein leises Flüstern, das die St... <a href=\"https://seabluedreaming.micro.blog/2024/10/29/zwischen-schirmen-und.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" translate=\"no\"><span class=\"invisible\">https://</span><span class=\"ellipsis\">seabluedreaming.micro.blog/202</span><span class=\"invisible\">4/10/29/zwischen-schirmen-und.html</span></a></p>",
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"content": "<p>Autumn — infinitely transient beauty. In the stillness of the changing seasons, I find myself ready to shed layer after layer, patiently waiting among years of stories, fears, and masks. With each layer removed, a hidden truth comes to light — a quiet reminder of who I am, free from expectations and without the urge to belong. These are moments in which I come face to face with myself, unadulterated and authentic.</p>",
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"content": "<p>Der Herbst – unendlich vergängliche Schönheit. In der Stille des Jahreszeitenwechsels finde ich mich, bereit, Schicht um Schicht abzulegen, geduldig wartend unter Jahren voller Geschichten, Ängste und Masken. Mit jeder gelösten Schicht tritt eine verborgene Wahrheit ans Licht – eine leise Erinnerung daran, wer ich bin, frei von Erwartungen und ohne den Drang, dazuzugehören. Es sind Momente, in denen ich mir selbst gegenübertrete, unverfälscht und authentisch.</p>",
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"content": "<p>In vielem bin ich ein Kind des späten Aufbruchs: <a href=\"https://seabluedreaming.micro.blog/2024/10/25/in-vielem-bin.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow noopener noreferrer\" translate=\"no\"><span class=\"invisible\">https://</span><span class=\"ellipsis\">seabluedreaming.micro.blog/202</span><span class=\"invisible\">4/10/25/in-vielem-bin.html</span></a></p>",
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"content": "<p>Through the hole<br />At the bottom of the cave<br />The imagination<br />Escapes intact<br />Leaving behind the hollow echo<br />Of dreams unspoken, of words unwoven</p>",
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