rain of life pouring down (no umbrellas allowed)

trace us back: CLXXXV →



your thighs are sweating on the scratchy purple cushions of the pews your temple has had as long as you can remember

and you are watching somebody’s great-grandma’s arm shake as she reads her memories of 60 years ago

and you think she is so fragile she is paper she is the thinnest sheet of…

One of the coolest, most amazing pieces I have discovered and read and have been extremely inspired by in a very long time. I adore this. Had to repost it!