The sun was low in the sky. I climbed the rocks and started to follow my sister further out over the water. I saw the look of disbelief in her eyes as i fell. Then the towering crash of silence in to the rumbling atlantic. Where the waves hit the rocks and the ocean made the oyester shells stick.
Landing left shoulder first the pull of the water spun me upside down, while the first wave finished crashing. Then a second pull, under my stomach, like a catapult pulling me up out of the frenzy. The tree trunk arm of my father. Scooping me up and in to his chest. Like a giant. I threw my arms around his neck as he jogged to the car with me. Mom drove and he held me soaking wet in his arms all the way to the doctor. 
Trauma.
that boi, is a hurt boi.
nice portrait brett. gnar. the oceans a mean bitch. keep em comin.
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the picture of adam with the cigarette is so tight
love these
whats it like to have a perfect style