Dark storm clouds are gathering as I write this entry. At least I assume they are storm clouds, it is always possible that they are sweetness and light clouds dancing in the heavens to bring a message of peace and tranquility to all humanity. Humanity doesn't really seem to be getting the hint. If I were such a cloud I would be getting quite disillusioned by now. "Here am I," my cloudy thoughts would go, "dancing my cumulo-nimbic butt off and these clowns aren't even paying attention." Indeed, if I were a cloud I think I would have a distinct temptation to rain on humanity's parade and, being a cloud, I'd have the tools to do the job. Yes indeed, you would mock Neil the Cloud at your peril.
The more I think about it (I'm seriously thinking about being a cloud?) the more I realise that I probably wouldn't make a good cloud. For starters, I'm scared of heights. Vertigo is not a good look for a cloud. If you're standing under me you'd better pray that the moisture hitting you is rain. The other clouds would tease me and swoop ever higher in the sky while I turned green and attempted to masquerade as ground mist.
My life as a cloud would be a lonely and bitter one, I would flee the mocking company of other clouds and hang out in an otherwise completely clear sky trying not to look to closely at the ground. You'll know me, I'm the one who will spoil your picnic when the weather report said it was going to be perfect. I'm the one who will make you scramble for your clothes again just after you put your suntan lotion on and it will be me who will lower the temperature just enough so you're not comfortable wearing that light Summer outfit that you spent an absolute fortune on.
On balance I think it's better that I'm not a cloud. Apparently being a cloud would make me an absolute prick.
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