More ramblings

1. A distraction for the mind or an event to dance the sun around the dial. A place to go or a call to make. A picture to imagine or a poem to write on the pages of pretty paper and lock inside the heart that created it. A time of loathing and moment of clarity. Everything at once, but nothing to motivate. A mangled nest of possibilities lacking direction and composure. Full of promise and short on nerve. The fog of chemical fed by the pleasure of silencing the internal chatter. The curse of femininity and the weight of modern expectations.

One questions stands at the cusp and begs an answer.

Who will help any one of find a path when nary a soul can find themselves?

2. Questions to transport you. - Have you ever gazed into the black of an approaching storm? Could you smell the moisture from a thousand mountain sunrises? Did your hair stand on end as the breeze washed electricity through your entire body? Have you stood in the open and dared the stampeding giant to come for you? Can you close your eyes and imagine the heaviness of the air? Can you feel the power of the thunder beneath your feet? Have you experienced the sensation of the leading downdraft as it washes the land with a million tiny particles of moisture from the farthest reaches to the soil beneath you? Have you ever posed yourself in the path of it in order to prove that you are mighty? Do you imagine that you are alone? Can you see the curtain of rain aproaching? Do you remain solid in your stance daring the beast to show itself? Can you feel the updrafts as they urge you now closer to the blackness? Does the pressure now matte the once up-right strands on your arms and neck down with humid force? Do you remain yet stagnant in pose as if in silent protest to the closening madness? Can you now smell the presence of debris from those who stood in protest before you? Are you able to now see the widening funnel as it licks the landscape in paralizing form? Are you still there? RUN BITCH WHAT THE FUCK!!!