oh the fluffy white clouds. The rolling bundles of vapour pushed across the sky by the wind. I wish I was light and airy. I could float up to the clear cool sky and be pushed by the current rather than being rooted in this office being battered by a storm of inquiries. I am at the edge of a furious hurricane that wants to examine my very roots.
I wish I could be free up there in the cool breeze. I wish I could be released from the here and now to be able to move off to explore the wonders just the other side of the horizon. Rather, I am locked into this self-cleaning oven contemplating the past and inspecting the blisters and welts of the past.
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