My brain finds every little fluff of cloud in the sky.
I think it's because part of me wants nothing to be forgotten. Not the little fluff of white, nor the large, flat cloud that's laid like a blanket across the sky. I enjoy searching for the small things, looking at the different shapes of the mulch, or counting the leaves on a flowery bush. Looking at the overlooked. It's satisfying, in a way. Looking at the things that aren't quite considered 'beautiful'.
Like the clouds that cover the bright stars. They just want a moment to shine, but instead they just annoy the watchers. Focusing how it's still something that is there, a part of this universe, and doing something. It's such an odd feeling. I enjoy it, though. Knowing I'm acknowledging the overlooked. Knowing that I can see that it is there, rather than just turning away from it because it disappoints me. Strange.
It's like how sometimes, I tell myself, "That wouldn't happen to me. There are so many other people in the world!" I overlook the fact that, well, they are individuals. They're a little fluff of cloud in the sky. One person can be considered insignificant, like a leaf on a tree, but they are still there. We are all here, whether you look at us or not.
I think it's because part of me wants nothing to be forgotten. Not the little fluff of white, nor the large, flat cloud that's laid like a blanket across the sky. I enjoy searching for the small things, looking at the different shapes of the mulch, or counting the leaves on a flowery bush. Looking at the overlooked. It's satisfying, in a way. Looking at the things that aren't quite considered 'beautiful'.
Like the clouds that cover the bright stars. They just want a moment to shine, but instead they just annoy the watchers. Focusing how it's still something that is there, a part of this universe, and doing something. It's such an odd feeling. I enjoy it, though. Knowing I'm acknowledging the overlooked. Knowing that I can see that it is there, rather than just turning away from it because it disappoints me. Strange.
It's like how sometimes, I tell myself, "That wouldn't happen to me. There are so many other people in the world!" I overlook the fact that, well, they are individuals. They're a little fluff of cloud in the sky. One person can be considered insignificant, like a leaf on a tree, but they are still there. We are all here, whether you look at us or not.
Comments
Log in or register to post comments.