I fucking love thunderstorms. I don’t really live in the right country to experience the full potential of nature’s Olympian wrath, but whenever there’s a massive electrical storm with thunder that rattles the world, it feels like every fiber of my being is living the life it’s meant to. In comparison, just about everything else feels muted. There’s something about that raw, uncontrollable, terrifying power that puts me on a better high than any drug I’ve tried. Is that weird? Maybe. But honestly I don’t care. I fucking love thunderstorms.
↓ Transcript
A small figure stands arms outstretched in the midst of a terrifying electrical storm.
Caption: When the thunder hits my chest beneath a snake strike sky
Caption: I come alive.
The clouds have retreated, it is a beautiful sunny day, and the figure walks away dejected.
Caption: Then the skies clear, the sun returns
Caption: and everything is grey again.
Caption: When the thunder hits my chest beneath a snake strike sky
Caption: I come alive.
The clouds have retreated, it is a beautiful sunny day, and the figure walks away dejected.
Caption: Then the skies clear, the sun returns
Caption: and everything is grey again.
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