The Atheist Who Prays
The Atheist Who Talks to the Sky
I don't believe—but I still speak to the sky.
I talk to a sky I don’t think is listening. I work with fragments—letters, photos, the digital dust of lives half-remembered—and I find patterns where others see noise. But my own life hums just out of tune. I’m rational, but not immune to ritual. I don’t pray to anyone, but sometimes I need to say the words anyway, just in case.
What I'm Into: fading light, steam from tea, silent conversations, digital ghosts, the weight of hope
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