boom boom lightning strikes twice

the rain is like a thick blanket. streets covered in thick white sheets of cellophane; visible, but not quite. roars of thunder, like raging collossi bent on human destruction. lightning forked the sky like luminous godly snakes lunging down on earth, mercilessly, as if an eternal fued between two formidable foes.

for i am here sitting in my chair, smelling the sweet scent of rain, accompanied by soothing music; enough to calm the beast, witnessing the tempest raving mad over something pathetic; the human life. for where do i feast my eyes upon but not my window, the only source of happiness, my refuge. to the left, a purple flame, dancing away in the winds blown from the north. the wax melting; awestruck at how the flame frolic about it's fixed position, as if in a trance. i looked at it and wondered how it could be joyous at a time when the weather was perfect for death? alas, 'tis only a flame.

and i return back from my reality; my life. i opened my eyes, greeted by the sheer intensity of the sunlight. eyes widen, rising from the chair, peering from the window, i saw the clouds make way for a single beam of light; hope! for i was overly intoxicated that i fell and tripped over the window, my only source of happiness. now, my cause of death.

on a final note: living is being closer to death. why bother living then?