My boyfriend often talks about wanting to be a cloud. It’s what he visualizes when he wants to indulge in a little escapism. Floating, drifting, seemingly weightless… A cloud doesn’t stress the way people do.
Everyone feels the desire to escape sometimes, but lately for me, that desire has been constant and heartpounding. I’m both overwhelmingly stressed and mind-numbingly bored. The things and people that make me happy are (for the most part) hundreds of miles away and the constant rejection on the job front makes me feel like a failure and disappointment with each passing day.
So it would seem that using my imagination to transform into a cloud would be ideal, but somehow that scares me more. Clouds don’t stress, but clouds also don’t control. They get carried high above the ground in the sort of wide open space that makes my skin crawl and my mind prick with panic.
For me, I think I’d want to be water. Not a whole big ocean or anything, but a small river casually winding its way through the world. Water carries itself with purpose. It digs away at the earth around it and forges its place. Water can be both refreshingly cold and comfortably warm. Water hugs your body in that perfect balance between claustrophobia and agoraphobia. Water moves without being blown. It commands without being solid. I would very much like to be water.
I also kind of like the fact that clouds and water are both versions of the same thing, and they complement each other to keep life going. Just a little romantic bias.