That was some real shit at the end, a few years ago I was at a park and I tried to dunk on a fast break and someone jumped behind me and when I punched it he tackeled me against a wall and I fucked my ankle , and since then I have never hooped again and even in my daily life I struggle with pain on my left foot, to all of yall be safe and make wise choices, because someone can quickly change your life for the worst and it´s permanent damage
No, but you can get a She was cold in the thunderstorm outside. Yes, she was outside. With the lightning flashing brightly over her small frame, making her twitch, and the thunder booming into her core, making her jump. It was hours ago that you once could have seen the tears on her face, but now it was near impossible to tell the difference between rain and tears. She sat with her back against a wall, while her head hung at her shoulders, making her eyes look at her hands in her lap. She was so still that a person could mistake her for being dead. But that did not last long, because her head went up at the sound of heavy footsteps splashing water, her hair spraying water around. She was quick to turn her head towards the person her had just ran by. A middle aged man, a sobbing middle aged man. Standing up, she walked to him, as he now stood at the edge of the pier. She watched the water carefully, knowing her thoughts earlier, of drowning away her sorrows. "Sir," she asked for his attention and was greeted with a rain soaked man with red, swollen eyes looking at her as if telling her to tell him he is pathetic. "Are you ok," she asked him that simple question. "Ye-- I mean NO!!" he shouted angrily, "Am I supposed to be ok? I have all of this stuff going on in my life: Wife died in a car accident, money is tight, kid is trying go bad with drugs. It---" The man had been flailing his arms as he spoke full of rage, but stopped when she wrapped her arms around his torso. He remained still for a few moments, trying to grasp what happened. Eventually, he hugged her back in a tight embrace that lasted for several minutes. "Sir," she spoke up after a time. "Yeah," he responded. "Do not kill yourself," she stated flatly. He froze, but then relaxed and became a sobbing mess that she still held onto. A tingling sensation arose on her shoulder blades and she somehow knew what they were. The man wiped his face with his sleeve before nodding to her and speaking in a shaky but grateful voice, "O-ok." "Good," She smiled brightly, she knew she could not throw away her life at her own misery because she knows what it feels like to be this low. She knew she wanted to help other people fight past the storms that come, even if it is just by a simple act of kindness of a wave or 'Hi'. Two wings sprouted from her back suddenly, both initially fully white, but color began for form on each feather: reds, blues, purples, greens, etc. "My wings are my canvas of myself," she stated firmly as the man was recoiling from her, thinking she was an angel. But, she stopped him from getting too far away. "I am no angel, just someone lost in her life," she said before picking him up in her arms and soaring into the air, into the bulk of the storm. "We all must weather the storm before we can reach where we desire to be, or are meant to be," she spoke calmly as her eyes narrowed and brows tightened. She was utterly focused as she spiraled one way then the other, avoiding each lightning bolt that came towards them. He clung to her all the while feeling fear, safety, amazement. Heavy wing beats batted at the wind and rain before they emerged on the other side of the storm. She flew across the green grassy land that was above the storm, before landing at a gathering place, where many others like them had arrived or were arriving. Landing softly, she let go of him, but he still took a moment to realize she had done so. "This is...," he started as he couldn't find the words. "Not heaven, nor The Garden of Eden. This is the place where us troubled souls belong. Where we can nurture our minds and hearts," she clarified for him. "But that doesn't make any sense," he turned to her, "How can tortured souls end up here to nurture and heal? I don't even have wings like you do." She looked him up and down before making eye-contact, "You have yourself. That is how. You need not come here in person. You need not fly through a thunderstorm with wings, but rather, hope and perseverance." She extended her wings to the side, "My wings are my personal canvas of myself and my journey. You have your own means of expressing yourself and doing your own things. Find them." He stood there, staring at her for several moments before he closed his eyes and nodded his head. Upon reopening his eyes, he stood at the pier as before, except no rain or woman next to him. Looking towards the clouds, he saw that they were starting to part. Turning around, he looked to see if he could spot her, but she was no where to be seen. With that, he let out a heavy sigh and headed home. On his way home, he paused in front of a music store. -- Evening had set in by the time the man's son had gotten home, his pockets filled with his latest batch of 'goodies'. He was expecting his father to yell at him again for having taken up smoking, but it was his means of coping with his mom's death. But, he was surprised to see his dad sitting in the living room wearing a loose V-neck long sleeve shirt and sweatpants, compared to his normal of a dress suit. But what caught him off guard the most was the acoustic guitar he had in his lap that he was playing a peaceful melody on it. "Da," the son asked cautiously, not sure if he was seeing right or not. The man stopped playing and looked up at him with an expression of regret, "I'm sorry I have been so hard on you with the drugs. You are probably self medicating after your mom's death." The son nodded his head to confirm that suspicion. "Th-thanks... What's with the guitar," the son asked curiously. "Decided to get it to play for fun. Want to try?" the man picked the guitar up from his lap and offered it to his son who came over and gingerly held the seemingly foreign object in his hands. As soon as the son sat, he positioned the guitar and began to strum the strings. -- Seven months later, the man and son received a large package in the mail from a woman they did not know, but the dad thought he might know who. After opening the box, they found an envelope that said, "Read this first, please." So they did. Life is always uncertain. I didn't even know if I would live past that day we met at the pier. But I am glad I did. Just like I am glad you did as well. As I did tell you that day, my wings are my canvas of my life. And you did as I told you, "You have your own means of expressing yourself and doing your own things. Find them." I am very happy for you and your son. At the bottom of the letter, there was a photo some one had taken of the dad and son while they were performing with two acoustic guitars for passerby's. A brief explanation of the woman the dad had met before he got the guitar was given before they both opened the rest of the package. The package held a painting that matched the photograph. The painting was hung in the dad's office while the son carried the photo in his wallet. Some time later, they were able to meet the woman with her new boy friend and kindled a close friendship with them. Smiles were always readily available when the four of them were together. As for the other people who had made it above the storm as the woman and man, they too found their paths to a better life. Even though people continue to fall into the trap of darkness, they still can pull out of it. Just like the rest
Forgetting the professor made boy? Professor would give raye BUCKETS no cap, not that raye isn't good, he's just not professor Level. Professor has had NBA players teach him and he's TAUGHT NBA players as well, it raye hasnt.
Ypk is him. He is tyqavion, who is also him plus he don't just make content he kick it and make content when he is on some else's channel it hit like a mill. I didn't know what the creator league was until I say him on it
She was cold in the thunderstorm outside. Yes, she was outside. With the lightning flashing brightly over her small frame, making her twitch, and the thunder booming into her core, making her jump. It was hours ago that you once could have seen the tears on her face, but now it was near impossible to tell the difference between rain and tears. She sat with her back against a wall, while her head hung at her shoulders, making her eyes look at her hands in her lap. She was so still that a person could mistake her for being dead. But that did not last long, because her head went up at the sound of heavy footsteps splashing water, her hair spraying water around. She was quick to turn her head towards the person her had just ran by. A middle aged man, a sobbing middle aged man. Standing up, she walked to him, as he now stood at the edge of the pier. She watched the water carefully, knowing her thoughts earlier, of drowning away her sorrows. "Sir," she asked for his attention and was greeted with a rain soaked man with red, swollen eyes looking at her as if telling her to tell him he is pathetic. "Are you ok," she asked him that simple question. "Ye-- I mean NO!!" he shouted angrily, "Am I supposed to be ok? I have all of this stuff going on in my life: Wife died in a car accident, money is tight, kid is trying go bad with drugs. It---" The man had been flailing his arms as he spoke full of rage, but stopped when she wrapped her arms around his torso. He remained still for a few moments, trying to grasp what happened. Eventually, he hugged her back in a tight embrace that lasted for several minutes. "Sir," she spoke up after a time. "Yeah," he responded. "Do not kill yourself," she stated flatly. He froze, but then relaxed and became a sobbing mess that she still held onto. A tingling sensation arose on her shoulder blades and she somehow knew what they were. The man wiped his face with his sleeve before nodding to her and speaking in a shaky but grateful voice, "O-ok." "Good," She smiled brightly, she knew she could not throw away her life at her own misery because she knows what it feels like to be this low. She knew she wanted to help other people fight past the storms that come, even if it is just by a simple act of kindness of a wave or 'Hi'. Two wings sprouted from her back suddenly, both initially fully white, but color began for form on each feather: reds, blues, purples, greens, etc. "My wings are my canvas of myself," she stated firmly as the man was recoiling from her, thinking she was an angel. But, she stopped him from getting too far away. "I am no angel, just someone lost in her life," she said before picking him up in her arms and soaring into the air, into the bulk of the storm. "We all must weather the storm before we can reach where we desire to be, or are meant to be," she spoke calmly as her eyes narrowed and brows tightened. She was utterly focused as she spiraled one way then the other, avoiding each lightning bolt that came towards them. He clung to her all the while feeling fear, safety, amazement. Heavy wing beats batted at the wind and rain before they emerged on the other side of the storm. She flew across the green grassy land that was above the storm, before landing at a gathering place, where many others like them had arrived or were arriving. Landing softly, she let go of him, but he still took a moment to realize she had done so. "This is...," he started as he couldn't find the words. "Not heaven, nor The Garden of Eden. This is the place where us troubled souls belong. Where we can nurture our minds and hearts," she clarified for him. "But that doesn't make any sense," he turned to her, "How can tortured souls end up here to nurture and heal? I don't even have wings like you do." She looked him up and down before making eye-contact, "You have yourself. That is how. You need not come here in person. You need not fly through a thunderstorm with wings, but rather, hope and perseverance." She extended her wings to the side, "My wings are my personal canvas of myself and my journey. You have your own means of expressing yourself and doing your own things. Find them." He stood there, staring at her for several moments before he closed his eyes and nodded his head. Upon reopening his eyes, he stood at the pier as before, except no rain or woman next to him. Looking towards the clouds, he saw that they were starting to part. Turning around, he looked to see if he could spot her, but she was no where to be seen. With that, he let out a heavy sigh and headed home. On his way home, he paused in front of a music store. -- Evening had set in by the time the man's son had gotten home, his pockets filled with his latest batch of 'goodies'. He was expecting his father to yell at him again for having taken up smoking, but it was his means of coping with his mom's death. But, he was surprised to see his dad sitting in the living room wearing a loose V-neck long sleeve shirt and sweatpants, compared to his normal of a dress suit. But what caught him off guard the most was the acoustic guitar he had in his lap that he was playing a peaceful melody on it. "Da," the son asked cautiously, not sure if he was seeing right or not. The man stopped playing and looked up at him with an expression of regret, "I'm sorry I have been so hard on you with the drugs. You are probably self medicating after your mom's death." The son nodded his head to confirm that suspicion. "Th-thanks... What's with the guitar," the son asked curiously. "Decided to get it to play for fun. Want to try?" the man picked the guitar up from his lap and offered it to his son who came over and gingerly held the seemingly foreign object in his hands. As soon as the son sat, he positioned the guitar and began to strum the strings. -- Seven months later, the man and son received a large package in the mail from a woman they did not know, but the dad thought he might know who. After opening the box, they found an envelope that said, "Read this first, please." So they did. Life is always uncertain. I didn't even know if I would live past that day we met at the pier. But I am glad I did. Just like I am glad you did as well. As I did tell you that day, my wings are my canvas of my life. And you did as I told you, "You have your own means of expressing yourself and doing your own things. Find them." I am very happy for you and your son. At the bottom of the letter, there was a photo some one had taken of the dad and son while they were performing with two acoustic guitars for passerby's. A brief explanation of the woman the dad had met before he got the guitar was given before they both opened the rest of the package. The package held a painting that matched the photograph. The painting was hung in the dad's office while the son carried the photo in his wallet. Some time later, they were able to meet the woman with her new boy friend and kindled a close friendship with them. Smiles were always readily available when the four of them were together. As for the other people who had made it above the storm as the woman and man, they too found their paths to a better life. Even though people continue to fall into the trap of darkness, they still can pull out of it. Just like the rest
Everytime I see him all I think about is “gimme threeeee”
Lol 10:06
Blocked by taqauvion
Raye always be uploading bangers 🔥🔥 Appreciate the effort man 🐐💯
YPK RAYE THE GOAT OF BASKETBALL CONTENT 😤😤😤KEEP UP THE WORK BIG BRO 😤😤😤
D riding
@@xsitghozt9248 nawl fr y thoe
FR ❤
Bro fr D riding ong
@@notluhh dawg he just complimenting hom
This man don't miss its banger after banger. I will never get tired of watching him and his skits frfr
That was some real shit at the end, a few years ago I was at a park and I tried to dunk on a fast break and someone jumped behind me and when I punched it he tackeled me against a wall and I fucked my ankle , and since then I have never hooped again and even in my daily life I struggle with pain on my left foot, to all of yall be safe and make wise choices, because someone can quickly change your life for the worst and it´s permanent damage
dam bro
Nah bro the dude that injured you gotta go
I'm so sorry that happened to you man
you fr be posting these bangers all day i love this shit keep going my boy 💪💪🔥🔥
That camera man funny af
Stay on the grind man 💪
That intro gets me hype every time 💯 5,8 and you can still can get your head at the rim! 🚀🚀🚀
Man has insane bounce 5'8 trowing down in game dunks like that
Keep up the great content we all love it!
The goat always know how to stay strong
Yo good content keep it up! Wish I could do all the hoops stuff you do
Yessir another fire vid 🔥
RAYE MY NUMBER 1 HOOPER ON YT LEZZ GO W UPLOAD ONG!!!!!!!!!
some real fire shii right here ma bro
Love your vids man keep up the good work
We need Taquavion makes a return pt2. Keep uploading bangers.🔥🔥 keep up the good work.
Cant wait to see more game like this
raye to goated
Ceo of basketball content dont miss
love the vids!
That boy a beast
This video making me realize Raye vs Friga boutta be the REAL match of tournament!!!
GOT THE BASKETBALL INTRO EVER🥶🥶🥶😤😤
Noti gang
Raye, a new intro will go crazy
You keep it 💯
First ❤ can we agree that raye can be a future star 🌟
No, but you can get a She was cold in the thunderstorm outside. Yes, she was outside. With the lightning flashing brightly over her small frame, making her twitch, and the thunder booming into her core, making her jump.
It was hours ago that you once could have seen the tears on her face, but now it was near impossible to tell the difference between rain and tears.
She sat with her back against a wall, while her head hung at her shoulders, making her eyes look at her hands in her lap. She was so still that a person could mistake her for being dead. But that did not last long, because her head went up at the sound of heavy footsteps splashing water, her hair spraying water around.
She was quick to turn her head towards the person her had just ran by. A middle aged man, a sobbing middle aged man. Standing up, she walked to him, as he now stood at the edge of the pier. She watched the water carefully, knowing her thoughts earlier, of drowning away her sorrows. "Sir," she asked for his attention and was greeted with a rain soaked man with red, swollen eyes looking at her as if telling her to tell him he is pathetic.
"Are you ok," she asked him that simple question. "Ye-- I mean NO!!" he shouted angrily, "Am I supposed to be ok? I have all of this stuff going on in my life: Wife died in a car accident, money is tight, kid is trying go bad with drugs. It---" The man had been flailing his arms as he spoke full of rage, but stopped when she wrapped her arms around his torso. He remained still for a few moments, trying to grasp what happened.
Eventually, he hugged her back in a tight embrace that lasted for several minutes.
"Sir," she spoke up after a time. "Yeah," he responded. "Do not kill yourself," she stated flatly. He froze, but then relaxed and became a sobbing mess that she still held onto.
A tingling sensation arose on her shoulder blades and she somehow knew what they were.
The man wiped his face with his sleeve before nodding to her and speaking in a shaky but grateful voice, "O-ok." "Good," She smiled brightly, she knew she could not throw away her life at her own misery because she knows what it feels like to be this low. She knew she wanted to help other people fight past the storms that come, even if it is just by a simple act of kindness of a wave or 'Hi'.
Two wings sprouted from her back suddenly, both initially fully white, but color began for form on each feather: reds, blues, purples, greens, etc. "My wings are my canvas of myself," she stated firmly as the man was recoiling from her, thinking she was an angel. But, she stopped him from getting too far away.
"I am no angel, just someone lost in her life," she said before picking him up in her arms and soaring into the air, into the bulk of the storm. "We all must weather the storm before we can reach where we desire to be, or are meant to be," she spoke calmly as her eyes narrowed and brows tightened. She was utterly focused as she spiraled one way then the other, avoiding each lightning bolt that came towards them. He clung to her all the while feeling fear, safety, amazement.
Heavy wing beats batted at the wind and rain before they emerged on the other side of the storm. She flew across the green grassy land that was above the storm, before landing at a gathering place, where many others like them had arrived or were arriving.
Landing softly, she let go of him, but he still took a moment to realize she had done so. "This is...," he started as he couldn't find the words. "Not heaven, nor The Garden of Eden. This is the place where us troubled souls belong. Where we can nurture our minds and hearts," she clarified for him.
"But that doesn't make any sense," he turned to her, "How can tortured souls end up here to nurture and heal? I don't even have wings like you do." She looked him up and down before making eye-contact, "You have yourself. That is how. You need not come here in person. You need not fly through a thunderstorm with wings, but rather, hope and perseverance."
She extended her wings to the side, "My wings are my personal canvas of myself and my journey. You have your own means of expressing yourself and doing your own things. Find them." He stood there, staring at her for several moments before he closed his eyes and nodded his head.
Upon reopening his eyes, he stood at the pier as before, except no rain or woman next to him. Looking towards the clouds, he saw that they were starting to part. Turning around, he looked to see if he could spot her, but she was no where to be seen. With that, he let out a heavy sigh and headed home.
On his way home, he paused in front of a music store.
--
Evening had set in by the time the man's son had gotten home, his pockets filled with his latest batch of 'goodies'. He was expecting his father to yell at him again for having taken up smoking, but it was his means of coping with his mom's death. But, he was surprised to see his dad sitting in the living room wearing a loose V-neck long sleeve shirt and sweatpants, compared to his normal of a dress suit. But what caught him off guard the most was the acoustic guitar he had in his lap that he was playing a peaceful melody on it.
"Da," the son asked cautiously, not sure if he was seeing right or not. The man stopped playing and looked up at him with an expression of regret, "I'm sorry I have been so hard on you with the drugs. You are probably self medicating after your mom's death." The son nodded his head to confirm that suspicion. "Th-thanks... What's with the guitar," the son asked curiously.
"Decided to get it to play for fun. Want to try?" the man picked the guitar up from his lap and offered it to his son who came over and gingerly held the seemingly foreign object in his hands. As soon as the son sat, he positioned the guitar and began to strum the strings.
--
Seven months later, the man and son received a large package in the mail from a woman they did not know, but the dad thought he might know who. After opening the box, they found an envelope that said, "Read this first, please." So they did.
Life is always uncertain. I didn't even know if I would live past that day we met at the pier.
But I am glad I did. Just like I am glad you did as well.
As I did tell you that day, my wings are my canvas of my life.
And you did as I told you,
"You have your own means of expressing yourself and doing your own things. Find them."
I am very happy for you and your son.
At the bottom of the letter, there was a photo some one had taken of the dad and son while they were performing with two acoustic guitars for passerby's. A brief explanation of the woman the dad had met before he got the guitar was given before they both opened the rest of the package.
The package held a painting that matched the photograph. The painting was hung in the dad's office while the son carried the photo in his wallet.
Some time later, they were able to meet the woman with her new boy friend and kindled a close friendship with them. Smiles were always readily available when the four of them were together.
As for the other people who had made it above the storm as the woman and man, they too found their paths to a better life. Even though people continue to fall into the trap of darkness, they still can pull out of it. Just like the rest
@@sparklywaterrr umm
Fire intro W vid
new moves best video ever
i kind of feel like ypk raye is crazy
Love u bro
Legendary.
W vid💙🖤
love the shorts
His intro never gets old
that shir was dope
You Know why he went crazy in the Jordan Court because he the best basketball youtuber
ngl
Forgetting the professor made boy? Professor would give raye BUCKETS no cap, not that raye isn't good, he's just not professor
Level. Professor has had NBA players teach him and he's TAUGHT NBA players as well, it raye hasnt.
@@kobe_bean_bryant432 Oh ya I forgor about professor he is an actually the best TH-camr this time fr
The intro is crazy tho
Bro we need a shoe collection vid pls bro
HELLO LUV DA VIDS
W🔥
Friga the goat of basketball 🏀
W vid
The guy said u resemble Rudy Gobert he looks like Rudy fr
lol mans dunked and put the ball back in when he missed classic Raye
Raye when u makin the rogich vid
🔥🔥🔥🔥
Now that a shot
Ypk is him. He is tyqavion, who is also him plus he don't just make content he kick it and make content when he is on some else's channel it hit like a mill. I didn't know what the creator league was until I say him on it
🔥🔥💯
Dayummmm
Let’s goooooo
Big fan
bro trying to rizz up the receptionist
W
In curry's masterclass on shooting. He says look at the rim
how u even look at the ball bro it makes my eyes go crossed
🔥
Can we all talk about why da hell are people even saying he's a bad shooter my man IS WET LIKE WATTA
💖💖💖
Raye is really HIM bro
Is raye trying to go to the nba?
Me thinking he was talkin bout 2k23 💀
bro wth with the finish of the video
was it just me or when he punched the camera u blinked
8:05 number 15 is a npc frrrr
hi great job
why does Raye grunt when he shoots
Is that him singing the intro
I’ve Ben practicing and some of the moves are very frustrating
raye you should pull up on proffeser and do a 1v1
wsp ykp raye
9:40 translation: im scared
0:03 who is bro tryna rizz up 💀😭
i see chris staples there
Are you fans go pro? You would be so good. And keap making bangers
2:05 Who got Drake and Kyrie from the dollar store out here
😤😤😤😤🩸🩸🅱️🖤🖤
early
that intro is lagit
First
10th*
No way YPK dropped the song?!
Dose anybody know the song at the end
You fr ball like ja tho
He do play like Ja though
Couldn't se because of the sun man he would of bang that shot
She was cold in the thunderstorm outside. Yes, she was outside. With the lightning flashing brightly over her small frame, making her twitch, and the thunder booming into her core, making her jump.
It was hours ago that you once could have seen the tears on her face, but now it was near impossible to tell the difference between rain and tears.
She sat with her back against a wall, while her head hung at her shoulders, making her eyes look at her hands in her lap. She was so still that a person could mistake her for being dead. But that did not last long, because her head went up at the sound of heavy footsteps splashing water, her hair spraying water around.
She was quick to turn her head towards the person her had just ran by. A middle aged man, a sobbing middle aged man. Standing up, she walked to him, as he now stood at the edge of the pier. She watched the water carefully, knowing her thoughts earlier, of drowning away her sorrows. "Sir," she asked for his attention and was greeted with a rain soaked man with red, swollen eyes looking at her as if telling her to tell him he is pathetic.
"Are you ok," she asked him that simple question. "Ye-- I mean NO!!" he shouted angrily, "Am I supposed to be ok? I have all of this stuff going on in my life: Wife died in a car accident, money is tight, kid is trying go bad with drugs. It---" The man had been flailing his arms as he spoke full of rage, but stopped when she wrapped her arms around his torso. He remained still for a few moments, trying to grasp what happened.
Eventually, he hugged her back in a tight embrace that lasted for several minutes.
"Sir," she spoke up after a time. "Yeah," he responded. "Do not kill yourself," she stated flatly. He froze, but then relaxed and became a sobbing mess that she still held onto.
A tingling sensation arose on her shoulder blades and she somehow knew what they were.
The man wiped his face with his sleeve before nodding to her and speaking in a shaky but grateful voice, "O-ok." "Good," She smiled brightly, she knew she could not throw away her life at her own misery because she knows what it feels like to be this low. She knew she wanted to help other people fight past the storms that come, even if it is just by a simple act of kindness of a wave or 'Hi'.
Two wings sprouted from her back suddenly, both initially fully white, but color began for form on each feather: reds, blues, purples, greens, etc. "My wings are my canvas of myself," she stated firmly as the man was recoiling from her, thinking she was an angel. But, she stopped him from getting too far away.
"I am no angel, just someone lost in her life," she said before picking him up in her arms and soaring into the air, into the bulk of the storm. "We all must weather the storm before we can reach where we desire to be, or are meant to be," she spoke calmly as her eyes narrowed and brows tightened. She was utterly focused as she spiraled one way then the other, avoiding each lightning bolt that came towards them. He clung to her all the while feeling fear, safety, amazement.
Heavy wing beats batted at the wind and rain before they emerged on the other side of the storm. She flew across the green grassy land that was above the storm, before landing at a gathering place, where many others like them had arrived or were arriving.
Landing softly, she let go of him, but he still took a moment to realize she had done so. "This is...," he started as he couldn't find the words. "Not heaven, nor The Garden of Eden. This is the place where us troubled souls belong. Where we can nurture our minds and hearts," she clarified for him.
"But that doesn't make any sense," he turned to her, "How can tortured souls end up here to nurture and heal? I don't even have wings like you do." She looked him up and down before making eye-contact, "You have yourself. That is how. You need not come here in person. You need not fly through a thunderstorm with wings, but rather, hope and perseverance."
She extended her wings to the side, "My wings are my personal canvas of myself and my journey. You have your own means of expressing yourself and doing your own things. Find them." He stood there, staring at her for several moments before he closed his eyes and nodded his head.
Upon reopening his eyes, he stood at the pier as before, except no rain or woman next to him. Looking towards the clouds, he saw that they were starting to part. Turning around, he looked to see if he could spot her, but she was no where to be seen. With that, he let out a heavy sigh and headed home.
On his way home, he paused in front of a music store.
--
Evening had set in by the time the man's son had gotten home, his pockets filled with his latest batch of 'goodies'. He was expecting his father to yell at him again for having taken up smoking, but it was his means of coping with his mom's death. But, he was surprised to see his dad sitting in the living room wearing a loose V-neck long sleeve shirt and sweatpants, compared to his normal of a dress suit. But what caught him off guard the most was the acoustic guitar he had in his lap that he was playing a peaceful melody on it.
"Da," the son asked cautiously, not sure if he was seeing right or not. The man stopped playing and looked up at him with an expression of regret, "I'm sorry I have been so hard on you with the drugs. You are probably self medicating after your mom's death." The son nodded his head to confirm that suspicion. "Th-thanks... What's with the guitar," the son asked curiously.
"Decided to get it to play for fun. Want to try?" the man picked the guitar up from his lap and offered it to his son who came over and gingerly held the seemingly foreign object in his hands. As soon as the son sat, he positioned the guitar and began to strum the strings.
--
Seven months later, the man and son received a large package in the mail from a woman they did not know, but the dad thought he might know who. After opening the box, they found an envelope that said, "Read this first, please." So they did.
Life is always uncertain. I didn't even know if I would live past that day we met at the pier.
But I am glad I did. Just like I am glad you did as well.
As I did tell you that day, my wings are my canvas of my life.
And you did as I told you,
"You have your own means of expressing yourself and doing your own things. Find them."
I am very happy for you and your son.
At the bottom of the letter, there was a photo some one had taken of the dad and son while they were performing with two acoustic guitars for passerby's. A brief explanation of the woman the dad had met before he got the guitar was given before they both opened the rest of the package.
The package held a painting that matched the photograph. The painting was hung in the dad's office while the son carried the photo in his wallet.
Some time later, they were able to meet the woman with her new boy friend and kindled a close friendship with them. Smiles were always readily available when the four of them were together.
As for the other people who had made it above the storm as the woman and man, they too found their paths to a better life. Even though people continue to fall into the trap of darkness, they still can pull out of it. Just like the rest
God damn
yo why the basketball sound like that bro??? air sound like a plastic ball from dollar tree 💀💀💀💀
Is it just raye or is the hoop taller than 10ft
Looks taller
Why ain’t you in the nba playing basketball?.
HUH!?
1v1 Raye? 😈
Bro look like ja
Why that dude look so much like drake XD
GrimesFN
Why the rim look 15 feet
Because non of these dudes is over 6'3 💀
hi
First give me my clout‼️
14th*
Believe in God Jesus will have something great for you accept him jesus is king
Comment number 36