Oh the greysies can be trying. Some of my darkest hours last for days, months, years longer than I anticipate. Well, yes, it always seems to last past what I think is possible, and sneakily moves into all the rooms of my house. If it hasn’t found its way into my basement or attic I graciously show it the trap door out of exhaustion and frozen terror. This is the point when I hit the STORMY CLOUD phase.
A few weeks ago, I found myself in this darkening weather and had a craving to embrace my stormy cloud by its plumes and drape it all over me. I wanted to dance the goddamn stormy cloud dance, drink fat stormy cloud droplets , and drown in the thick ribbons of grey. Naturally I headed for a needle and thread!
Not only was I wanting to esoterically fill my experience with clouds, I wanted to wear it, so that all could recognize the storm that was passing by. I forwarned loved ones around me that if they saw me wearing this cloak of storm, that they would know immedietly what kind of state I was in.
The effects unprecidented, unexpected, and suprisingly therapeutic….
I reached into my bottomless fabric scrap bag and tore from old costumes that I knew would never use again. I started sewing and stitching, ripping thread with my teeth, and sculpting a cloud around myself. This as a way to face my greying times and dive even deeper into truly feeling something through to its depths. The stormy cloud coat appeared …
There are many reasons
for this clouds formation
and I was tired of trying to
ignore that it exsisted.
It was futile anyway. The
more I would ignore one
of these storms, the larger
and more fierce they
would come back to finish
My plan, was to dress up
like it and be the storms worst nightmare.
Well as expected, things never go as expected…
Well, I certainly found out you can’t trick a storm.
Right when you think it’s your time to be victorious, the moment you start to raise your arm in confidence, the mere wisp of a sigh; the storm puffs and has you pinned on your back.
From here, it’s really hard not to rain over everyone else’s parade. Chances are high that when your storm appears everyone else will be having an especially sunny day. Oh WaIT!! I’ve forgotten about the embarassment of being the only dark cloud in the sky while the rest of society brings out their sunglasses.
You look down and everything is soaked, flooded. Rivers are tearing away the banks, memories bobbing and spinning away with the currents. Its overwhelming, you can’t hear your breath and it all becomes very quiet in that stormy mind.
The paralysis is littered with
knocking demunitive blurbs
poking at the fact that you are indeed paralized and appear to have completly given over to whitenoise fuzz and staring at a wall.