Thoughts Like Clouds Passing Overhead.

They always come.

Whether he is bored on the train, on a long drive home, procrastinating or purely relaxing. Whether he is out with friends, seeing a girl or chilling out on his own. The thoughts always come.

Good, bad and downright odd, they float around his head like clouds. Moving around, changing, intertwining and creating. They move in a flurry of dance that cannot be ignored.

Distracting, frustrating and maddening, he knows he must find a way to tame the wicked beasts inside his head. The mind, however, cannot be tamed.
Not in the sense of a domesticated animal at least. Attempting to stop the mind thinking is like trying to stop the tongue tasting, the eyes seeing, the ears hearing. The mind, is built to think, and think it does.

He lay asprawl, on top of the apartment high rise which had been his home for as long as he remembered. He can see the ocean, and the noise from the streets below is carried off on the wind. He gazes upward, stretching out on his back with the warm cement softening his muscles.

He see's the clouds above him; the purest of white contrasted with the deepest, most soulful shades of blue he knows. They pass by, ever so quietly, above him as if he were not there at all. They do not stop to pay attention to the young boy on the roof. So why should he stop for them?

Why should he stop for them?

Never had he experienced such insight, such a profound understanding of himself, the world and the universe that surrounds us.

The pristine simplicity of this concept. The clouds are nothing but clouds. The sky will always hold them, somedays more than others. He need not pay attention to all of them. He knows now, the clouds will come and go as they please, whether he gives them his time or not.

"It's beautiful"

Beauty, he discovers, is the greatest misconception of our civilisation. The world decided long ago that pictures in magazines and famous people and shiny things deserved to be crowned 'beautiful'. He knows now, though, that true beauty is a thing of the mind, which when understood, creates beauty in everything the mind touches.

He could go on, but he has better ideas.

The cloud passes.
ChristopherMichael ChristopherMichael
2 Responses Jan 22, 2013

Let it pass, he thought. It may not seem to bother for the young man of the roof, but quietly, let it evoke such pristine thoughts on many more young men and women waiting at their roofs for a calm moment of insight. Let it, by the transience of its presence, show the world's changing ideas of beauty. and thank the sky for being the canvas that held it. For, is it not the soul's light that illumines the mind ?

Awesome! You really got the idea of it flowing!

Wow, this is amazing and deep, and I love how you tie together the clouds and thoughts in a way that flows perfectly and drives the reader to a perfect ending. well done! This is one of my favorite stories on ep! =)

Thankyou for the awesome feedback! I'll be sure to check out some of your work, but I'm not exactly supposed to be on my phone right now. So maybe when I get home :)