I must admit,
I’ve always been a storm chaser.
The addiction for that magnetic pull of electricity,
air bursting with oxygen.
Suddenly breathing seems so different.
I can feel my lungs screaming for more.
Was I breathing all this time?
I must have been.
We inhale, we exhale.
We live.
At least we think we do.
I believe we’re just wined up, lick clocks...
By society, and even more important, by ourselves.
Storms unwind me.
They offer me clarity.
I need my storms.
That’s why, when no storm is around,
I create my own dust devil.
I make the wind go clockwise for a while,
just till I hear myself breathing again.
Till I feel enlightened...
