I hate the sun. It is too bright and plain. Grey days are what I live for. When the sky is an ocean of pain and everything slows down. Time seems to fall asleep and the seconds are drowned by overcast shadows. Dark green leaves rustle and occasionally rain drips from the rugged branches. Sleepy and dark, but it’s not night. I like it.
Thunderstorms are the most peaceful of all. Strong winds and white bolts, not to forget the torrential rain. Lovely lovely weather. Days like this are best spent wasted, lying on the cold floor and watching the trees sway. The sky is not dark, it’s grey. And I enjoy it’s company.
It is refreshing to know that you’re not alone. That the sky is here to cry with you, and that the weather hates this world as much as you do. The cold gives you the liberty to cover up all the shame and guilt of those torrid days. Because the darkness overpowers the sin and ickiness from the daylight hours, and everything is now sensuous.
Grey weather is my companion. Gloomy days make me feel normal.