Heavy Rain

One should not read what I'm writing at this very moment at the brink of my mental sanity
Every word is thin and fragile like a feather made of glass, if not even thinner

When read, I'm afraid that the words will shatter into thousand pieces and no longer be words, but be pieces

What would I be without words, what would we be without language

Without anything to even begin to understand this void we have been thrown in to

If I was bold, I'd say that every doctor, scientist, surgeon, biologist and psychologist, and all the other fine titles on the very top of the amount of importance a single human can bestow on himself

I believe that all those illusions are delusional

For the body is not made of flesh, blood, organs, veins, muscles, bones, nerves, cells

No, the body is purely made out of a cloud

A space filled with clouds and dim light

And inside, there is a tiny little human called Conscience 

This human swims through the clouds, in a floating motion

Desperate for something to grab on to 

Desperate for something solid, something logical and sane

It doesn't have to be anything much, it doesn't have to be covered in gold and jewels

Yet, the human only finds himself forever drifting into oblivion

Submerged in the clouds and in the dim light

I wonder if I'm the only human, that in fact is not a human, but a cloud

And that all the other humans are solid entities, racing through life with immense force and admirable willpower

Am I the only human that has evaporated, and is now doomed to float and be pained by the success of others

And by success, I don't mean work, or education or social knowledge

With success, I mean finding something solid within oneself to grab onto

Finding something to truly live for, and do so with uttermost courage and pleasure

With success, I mean not letting go of yourself, not let yourself be submerged by the clouds

To build cities under these clouds and create staggering views

With success, I mean every person that has managed to become everything that I am not
Oh, what misery I put myself in

What childish complains!

A cloud should not complain!

A cloud should roam freely in the air

And create staggering views in the sky

A cloud should not be bothered to care about earthly achievements

Yet, even a cloud can sometimes find a ray of humanity within the cluster

In that memory of being a solid entity with such vivid emotions and dreams

Heavy rain starts to fall

Heavy, heavy on the city

And the staggering views are no more