on my mind: rain
uncertain to tell. the house is quiet. ive turned off all loud beats, whirling appliances, and barking dogs to sit here and ponder the rain. the skies are crying, the heavens have opened, down it pours into the eagerly welcoming earth; into the brooks, bushes, and bright bumper lights. beep beep. the humans try to change it, to force it away. we run from it, hide from it, protect ourseleves from it. but why? it only a bit of water. on that note, the rain dancers must have heard me, and have stopped embracing the sprit of rain. it has ceased. but only till they re unite again to dance amoungst the downpour.
continue ponding. the rain has ended, yes, but with the returnal of INTERPOL the strayful thoughts continue till my sleep.
why is the sky crying? it was us.