nimbostratus
(Maxwell - This Woman's Work)

Sometimes I catch myself staring off in the corner of a room and all I can think about is how horrible of a person I am. How many people have I hurt in my lifetime? I’ve lost count. Then I start thinking about how many people have hurt me; people who are as equally horrible as I am. And I imagine that each one of these people walks around with a black cloud on their heads. If you can imagine walking down the stairs of a subway station during rush hour and seeing the crowds gather on the platform just before the subway arrives; and all you can see are black clouds everywhere -- that’s what the world sometimes looks like to me.

What makes it all worthwhile is, every now and then you’ll see the sun poke out of those clouds. Someone that stands above the rest of us misfits. Someone as pure and as innocent as daisies in a meadow on a warm spring day. Someone that gives me a little hope that, I might someday turn it all around and instead of hurting people, make people smile. In a way, I guess what the cloud really represents is guilt. I need to somehow come to terms with the guilt I’ve got and try and avoid gathering more. In the end, we’re all accountable to ourselves, if not a greater principle. When I’ve breathed my last breath, I want to be sure that there’s a light above my head to go towards.