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July 9, 2010
There is one lone cloud, hovering like a giant bubble in the sky. Half of it is a peachy-orange color from the setting sun, and the other half is nearly black. Every few minutes, lightening flashes inside of it, never quite escaping the cloud and touching the earth like it wants to.

I contemplate it--the way it acts like a prison for the raging storm inside, and I think perhaps it is metaphor for my life. Surely, that image must mean something truly profound! I realize, eventually, it is just a cloud, and I am not a storm.