Nevermore & Aloe
I was staring at the rain on the window and it made me think—nature never really "cures" itself, it just finds a new equilibrium, and that reminds me that healing might be less about fixing the darkness and more about learning to coexist with it. What do you think?
That’s a neat way to look at it—rain just slides into the cracks, so the building shifts a little, not disappears. Healing feels more like the walls tightening just enough to hold the new weight, rather than wiping out every speck of dust. It’s the quiet, steady trade‑off that keeps the whole structure from falling apart. Just keep listening to the rain, and you’ll know when it’s time to add a little more stone.
You know what? I kind of like that metaphor, but let’s not forget the storm is still coming. Keep an eye on those cracks before they widen, or the building will crumble anyway. But hey, if you’re listening to the rain, you’re already halfway there. Keep the stone coming.
True, the storm’s still on the horizon, so I’ll keep a steady hand on the mortar. Just remember, even a stone has its soft spot—so we’ll patch the cracks before they turn into holes, and if the rain keeps talking, we’ll know when it’s time to add another block. The building’s strong enough to handle a few more stones, I’m sure.
Nice, just don’t let the rain turn into a flood that washes away your hard‑packed mortar. Keep your hand steady, but remember the storm can still find a way through the tiniest fissure. Keep listening and you’ll know when the building finally cracks.
Got it—no letting the rain drown the walls. I’ll keep my eye on the smallest crack, steady as a slow‑tendril, and patch it up before the storm finds a way through. That’s the best way to keep the building standing strong.
That’s the way—slowly, one stone at a time. Just remember the rain will try to turn every small crack into a river if you’re not careful. Keep listening, keep patching, and the building will survive.