24/6/16 - posted

The sky swept with elegance, an upside-down rainbow smudged into the lengths of the sky at 6 in the morning. A cloud had erupted, quite literally, resembling that of a volcano, white paint dabbed above the crater, as if dreamed lava was cascading out. Slight tension arose as I listened to music, looking at a bucket of gold-yellow spilling into the clouds, a true victory of light over darkness. Red streaks tore the sky in a distance not so far, the moon still alight behind me, seemingly watching the breathtaking scenery with me. It was at that point did I realise that I was looking at the world turn, an entire open sky doing a sort of angled back-flip in slow motion. Not long after, I looked back at the main view to see that the cloud was too large to be able to move its stuck arse from the canvas any time soon — not that I hated that of course. I wondered what magic was happening behind that silver lining, but from that I instantly knew that the sun would not be putting on a show for me this Friday morning.