nobody was surprised when the rains came. the clouds had been looming over us for longer than we could remember. we weren't scared of them. far from it, actually. their greys were comforting. a perfect backdrop they were, for comforting silence.
whenever there was thunder, we would listen curiously. somehow, the thunderclaps were silent

all noise was silent.

between all of us, there was a bond. the clouds were an agent reminding us of our responsibility. the thunder softened the blow with their unspoken love.

the grim and desolate do not exist. the gravel of the lost cannot touch a willfull grit. find solace in the clouds, find light in the thunder, as the lonely man falling can turn the rain into their brother.

the downpour never really stopped. sometimes he would meekly drizzle. other times he would roar and soak us with his words. we spoke back to him, silently of course.

the thunder would clap more often. it seemed content. silently gesturing us towards him. speaking to us in ways that words cannot learn. everything was together, yet nothing was spoken.


sometimes, during my climb, i think about the rain. i miss the web. i miss the kind thunder. i will never shed my mind of  the beautiful clouds. those sirens would float cross the sky, casting grey petals towards anybody who could catch them.


there must be more than solace. eye to eye, i hope they speak. they must feel something different when their eyes begin to meet. blossoming from nothing. loud and proud the blue accepts. some have seen the grey and blue, to those whom i address. the climb may never finish, but the grey has taught you well. no doubt the climb will callus, but the clouds don't judge those who have fell. a battle this is not, as there is no warring ground. how can one fight a battle when they cannot produce sound?

allow yourself patience. keep pushing onwards. the thickets will clear. scars are badges. one day, the blue will be basked in. the grey will be there too. the grey clouds will pillow you. the rain will move in solace. the thunder will warm you. every time the grey is met, you move farther.

I learned that life is not linear. That our greys and blues exist in tandem, and we move back and forth between them. When you learn to seek joy, yet sometimes glide in the grey, all will be well.

Luv u Alex/Raisa.

From Stephen/Quentin