Rocks grow, rocks mature. A rock is dull, and at times unnoticeable. Some rigid, some smooth. Rocks have substance and serenity. A rock goes through a journey like no other. Taking breed from the depths of a chunk, and eventually finding itself a minuscule piece of earth. A rock gradually moves from its rough state to silky texture through none other than time. Every wave, every shipwreck, and every climate change make a rock what it is. Some crumble, some seize to higher power, and some persevere to a sunlit beach coolin out with Coronas. The waves are coming. The ships are crashing. The weather is changing. Here we go.
HolyFuck. Someone make this really big, frame it, and give it to me!