Where does thunder go when it dies?

Hello thunderstorm.

Your rumbling lullaby rocks me to sleep as my eyelashes flutter with slumbering thoughts and the sound of your voice. The lightning flashes across the sky and shines briefly on my forehead like a parent who cracks the door to check on me and lets in a sliver of the hallway light to illuminate my sleepy head.

Hello thunderstorm.

My disgruntled attitude is echoed in the loudness of your own complaining and I respect you for the strength you have to voice your own opinions. Lightning crashes across the sky like I do when I walk into a room wearing confidence higher than my heels. You ignore subtlety and I like that most of all.

Hello thunderstorm.

You wear all black because you’re a Francophile and think black is chic. When you’re feeling incredibly flashy, you accent with streaks of white lightning and remind everyone that your favorite designer is Chanel.

Hello thunderstorm. Please don’t go.

Life is a conversation with yourself.

I like knowing things. I like it when I know more things than you and I can teach you exactly what I know so that you can spring the domino effect. I become a teacher with a 1000 students. I like when you know more things than me because you are helping me to expand the knowledge I can never have enough of in this world that keeps bloating with more information each day.

It’s like being thirsty.

You can keep drinking and drinking and drinking until you are filled to the brim. But the next day, you can (and should!) always come back for more.

That’s why I appreciate myself so much. I am an enigma, a maze that constantly changes paths. My whole life is the pattern of a star. From birth, I emerged from a nebula, twinkling and growing several thousand times larger than even my thoughts could comprehend.

I grew into a main sequence star and at this point, I knew how to handle whatever life could throw at me. I wasn’t growing in size anymore, but rather only in the mental and emotional state. Everything was old and familiar but the way I responded to life changed with every new emotion.

From here, I could swell to the red giant phase but I’m not sure yet if I have left the previous category. After all, when does anyone ever stop changing? Every new experience takes us farther than the person we were before. Even as I typed this, I have changed and come up with new metaphors, I’ve learned more about my personal writing habits, I discovered that I hit the space bar quite loud and violently, and I’ve become more patient with my puppy as she is learning not to chew on my shoelaces (*insert pause as the adorable monster is disentangled once more*)…

It’s so good to try and know oneself but how well can you, really?

Here I am, pondering my future life choices and what exactly I what to do with my life, what is non-negotiable and what I can live without. Today I like toast and black coffee but tomorrow I will want Earl Grey and eggs. I love the variety of life but routine is my companion.

If I can’t even decide on breakfast, how can I make decisions about my future?