Dark moods

I feel before I see it. The winds come first; they tell me the secret of a thousand stories. Fierceness lies quietly underneath – the prelude of a thunderstorm that can break me apart.

Sometimes it does. When the hurricane comes, the earthquake strikes or the flood invades, the power is too strong for my bones and as much as I want to bravely stand, I ultimately lose my grip – and the fall is ugly and violent. Fury comes, fear provides me the claws and hurt fights for sovereignty. I scream, I shout, I sob, I weep, I cry – until the hole is so deep that I give up the fight, let my body slid to the ground and surrender to it.

It might be too that the problem is the heat; sometimes, it’s too much. It’s overwhelming. I feel like I am carrying the weight of a hundred tales and none of them are mine. In the sweat of my skin –and sometimes in the sweat of my emotions–, the exhaustion of fighting to keep it together is excruciating.

It’s not always so horrible, though. Sometimes it’s just… cloudy. Rainy, cold, windy. Patience runs out and turns my tongue into a snappy, bitchy presence. Little grievances become the source of complaints and I am quickly sick of the world and of myself. So I quietly go back to my nest and retire for the day.

And that’s ok. It’s perfectly fine that it’s not always sunny and warm and breezy. I am prepared for the ugly days, even the horrible ones. Because I know –as an intricate truth of human experience– I know that the sun will inevitably shine (it always does), and I will too with it. And tomorrow –gosh; tomorrow might just be one of the great ones.

So let me tell you something, here and now: I can blow your mind in ways that you can’t even imagine.

But if you can’t handle me when the weather is awful, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me when the sun shines.

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