It’s like clouds. Wafting along peacefully, not bothering anyone. And then the wind picks up and scatters them all around, the sky goes overcast and the clouds aren’t lazy and peaceful anymore. They’re glum and hazy. It’s hard to say what they are. Maybe the start of a storm, maybe hinting at a tornado over the horizon. Maybe just smog from all the burnoff wells. Who knows? Only time will tell.
From the ground, you can’t throw a rock at a cloud. The cloud is out of your reach, for the most part. You can yell; it can’t hear you, and even if it could, it’s a cloud. It doesn’t have the capacity to care. You can’t make it go back where it came from. You can’t chase it off. It’s just there, doing its own thing, not bothering anyone. The weather takes a turn for the worst, and you can’t stop it. You can’t file a petition to force the sky clear and sunny again. You can’t take a vote for a warm breeze. It just happens of its own, and you can only enjoy it while it lasts. And then it’s gone. There’s no holding onto it or pushing it away. There’s no arguing with it. Getting upset won’t alter its course or make it stay.
And yet some days, I really like to throw shade at the clouds. Stupid things. I lost the plot a long time ago. Where are we going with any of this, and why are those stupid clouds still just drifting along without a care in the world? Did they take a class to learn that particular skill? I’m not even sure what’s bothering me half the time. The life of a crazy person, huh? We should be so lucky to have reasons for things.
Not sure what my point is here. That might be the booziness talking.
4 comments
i get it. thank you. xox
This was an interesting commentary. Laced with frustration. Thanks for posting this.
Yep kind of a good analogy , Things get bad outside I hide in the house. 🙂 with a bottle of vodka of course.
What should I say? What should I do? Where should I go? Should I see somebody? Should I dance? Should I panic? Words, words, words, words. It’s all about words. They seem to turn everything simple into a convoluted mess. Gotta remember to breathe and let the clouds be clouds. It shouldn’t be as much a challenge as it is.
Vodka? No. Just no potato. Whiskey all the way.