Sin… Cloudbusting

I wandered lonely as a cloud.

Are clouds lonely? Do they wander about, up there, all full of sadness and despair? Do they float about, wishing for a brief gust of wind to give them a push towards one another so they can merge into a bigger one? Is it a competition to see who can reach the lofty heights of Cumulo Nimbus first?

But, when they do become the granddaddy of all clouds, do they then become angry, bustling and tussling for supremacy? Does a battle then ensue and we who walk upon the Earth below feel the outpouring of their war in the deluge that follows? Is rain a cloud’s blood, rather than God’s pee?

I actually don’t think so. I think clouds have a great life. They float about carefree, not worried whether it’s rain (which is down to them) or shine. They spy one of us looking up at them and morph into pigs or dragons or trains for our amusement. When they see another one of their own, they drift on over and hook up for a while, chilling and chatting before wandering off to ride the air currents.

A strong wind is like a rollercoaster to them. It grabs them and they fly along, screaming, fluffy hands held high.

And the Cumulo Nimbus? I think that’s their party. And I think that the rumbling thunder and the flashes of lightning are their music and dancing and we’re the neighbours that they take great pleasure in irritating.

Though, saying that, I love a good storm. I gladly stand out in it, letting the rain soak me as the party carries on high up above.

Sometimes I wish I could join in.

The recreation room is like that. We’re all clouds, drifting from one corner to another, pausing by the window or the TV. Occasionally we’ll be caught up in the storm of one of the residents having a ‘Moment’ with a capital ‘M’ for ‘Mental’. Then we continue to float on our breeze of Risperdal.

I wander lonely as a cloud.

Thinking about it, perhaps clouds are lonely.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *