thunderstorms.

i'm tired of talking about music.

right now i'm really tired of pushing out music and lyrics and poems and thoughts and shit. i feel like if i keep pushing things out and not letting them walk out naturally, it will all be shit. i don't want what i love to be a waste, so i'm tired as of now. what i really want to do is rid myself of this cavity in my stomach that shares the rent with my heart. i want to sleep it all off and brush away what still sits on my shoulders.

i want to fly to the mid west and sit on a lake that i know. i want to tell no one and walk down to the dock. i want to sit on the structure and feel the warm water on my feet. i want to sit there in a big coat and watch the clouds move in from the west. they gather above the giant mass of water and shade the life that stirs beneath the surface. darkness covers the lake and the speedboats go home. it's storms like this that make me want to see. it's lightning that illuminates the 1,000 lakes and more that makes me want to fall into the water with my arms outstretched for the sky. i can feel the water flooding my nose and as i cough, forcing what i'm made of out of my body another streak of lightning cascades over the lake and i am home.

i conduct electricity. i shape these clouds and control the grid that powers the night sky. i'm the one making everything bright and shiny and beautiful.
but i am nothing.
i am drowning in the lake that acts as a mirror. reflecting the electric discharge born in the clouds, shaking airplanes and crows.
i am night.