It's thundering here, now. This means that somewhere the air wants very much to be somewhere else, and it's beating up the air that wants to stay here.

i'm drinking apple juice, abusing my iTunes, and ignoring the bed. Saladin, as would be imagined, is not ignoring anything, except the world. He could care less if i'm there ::laughs:: - more bed for him, eh?

i wonder if the rain is the ocean coming home, or taking it back. i have never felt the influence of Water on my Me more than i have recently. i am fire, and dirt, water is the rest of the things i'm not, and the means to get them there. i'm feeling water, moving in it instead of under it, and it helps me understand cloud a little better.

Clouds? i have taken them for granted, and used them like tshirts, or bread. Never let myself over on the reverse, to be the reason for the rain, not the target. It's like i've been training horses without ever riding one.

i've dreamt that i've worn woad ( not a pretty sight ::laughs::), like some druid-king, solid and safe in no other gods; and i've dreamt i was a fisherman as well ( minus the skulking albatross, thank you).
and i've sow'd copper under pillows to call dreams like the amateur Oineronaut that i am, but it's always been just a natural thing, like making a sangwich, or crossing the street.
Somehow it's evolved into purpose.

or, i'm still dreaming.