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To all our grandparents.
why did this make me immediately say 'oh no' out loud? oh nooo
We’re all in this mess together. Things like religion, like nationalities, are just trivia. We’re all just bugs against the windshield of time, right?
We’re all just biding our time before we break, aren’t we? This is just the rest stop.
Is this the feeling of being broken? He wonders. Or is it the process of breaking? Is this how it feels to refuse to break? Or is every moment simply its own act of creation? Its own god, too holy for a name?
