𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗀𝖾'𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗋
𓆩 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝟎𝟏𝟏 𓆪 " @basechannle " 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ حرفهایی که شاید هیچوقت گفته نشن. "تنها یک بار دیدنت برای حک شدن نقشت روی قلبم کافی بود. اون نگاه زیبا و زندگی بخشت مبهوتم کرد. انقدر محو تماشای تو بودم که دم و بازدم رو از یاد بردم. تو با اون لبخند نرم و چشمهای…
اولن این واقعا خیلی خوشگل بود))
Forwarded from Your File (Снежана...)
𓆩 card: the star
The sealed envelope was waiting on your windowsill.
Inside was a Tarot card — The Star.
Behind it, a folded letter:
“Bring the card to the place where the rain ends.”
You followed the address until you reached an empty field outside the city.
The sky was still grey, but a rainbow had appeared above the field.
At its end stood an old wooden door, completely alone.
When you opened it, you found a small room filled with colored glass.
This was where the Rainbow Ceremony took place.
It happened only once in every generation, when someone whose name had been written in the ceremony book was finally old enough to enter.
Your name was on the first page.
The letter had been written for you years before you were born.
On the table were seven pieces of glass, each reflecting a different color.
You placed The Star beside them.
One by one, the colors disappeared from the glass.
Until only one remained.
The color you had always chosen without knowing why.
Then someone turned the page of the ceremony book.
Your name was crossed out.
And beneath it, in fresh ink, was written:
“Completed.”
The sealed envelope was waiting on your windowsill.
Inside was a Tarot card — The Star.
Behind it, a folded letter:
“Bring the card to the place where the rain ends.”
You followed the address until you reached an empty field outside the city.
The sky was still grey, but a rainbow had appeared above the field.
At its end stood an old wooden door, completely alone.
When you opened it, you found a small room filled with colored glass.
This was where the Rainbow Ceremony took place.
It happened only once in every generation, when someone whose name had been written in the ceremony book was finally old enough to enter.
Your name was on the first page.
The letter had been written for you years before you were born.
On the table were seven pieces of glass, each reflecting a different color.
You placed The Star beside them.
One by one, the colors disappeared from the glass.
Until only one remained.
The color you had always chosen without knowing why.
Then someone turned the page of the ceremony book.
Your name was crossed out.
And beneath it, in fresh ink, was written:
“Completed.”
for:@basechannle
Forwarded from Icele
I’d rather listen to music than talk, so don’t think I care that you’re not talking to me.