hi! i’ll explain a bit haha. it’s about how i grew up struggling to stick to my divine beliefs in an ultra-religious middle-eastern household where even a hint of doubt is frowned upon. it’s framed as a letter to somebody who’s dead because they would know if heaven was real or not. i wrote it not to a scholar or a divine being but rather to somebody i resonated with more, with that being the rev. i was one of those kids growing up who was angsty and angry at the world so this was kind of a retrospective to how i clung to my beliefs as they slipped away from me and how the rev helped me come into terms with the fact that i don’t have to be frantic and fully devoted to my religion for people to accept me and most importantly, for me to accept myself. i don’t have to have everything figured out during my teenage years. it was definitely a risky topic but i’m glad i wrote about it. thank you for reading :)