THE UNSPOKEN WITHIN. PART II. Maybe I find another way.

I saw the thunderstorm was getting closer.
I may be stupid, but I’m not blind. I saw it. I felt it in the air.
But I did not run.
I did not go to any closer shelter.
I just stayed standing there, right in the middle of it.
Without a raincoat or an umbrella.
Bare face against the thick drops falling all over me. Soaking me. Taking my breath away. Tiring my bones.
Yes, I just stayed there.
The thunderstorm engulfed me, grew bigger and more dangerous. All around me; just fog and wetness. Mixed with my own tears.
Mixed with my own internal tsunami.
A collision. A moment of insanity.
A ritualistic dance, screaming at the sky, at the clouds, at the rain. Spitting out at the top of my voice to take me for once and for all and just leave me alone. Begging to be absolved from the uncertainty, the permanent mysterious unpredictable forecast over my head.
Fine, let’s just finish this.
You got me where you wanted, oblivious and naively naked, unprotected from any of your destructive attacks. Disoriented, what the actual hell is going on?
Swipe me off my feet, suck me into your vortex of emptiness.
Let’s be miserably happy together.
Let’s just tear each other apart.
Or maybe, maybe I will find another way.
Maybe I will grab an umbrella and instead of letting your lightings pulverize me, I will point it back at you and set myself free.
Maybe I’ll do it. Yea.

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