I must admit, I’ve always been a storm chaser. The addiction for that magnetic pull of electricity, air bursting with oxygen. Suddenly breathing seems so different. I can feel my lungs screaming for more. Was I breathing all this time? I must have been.
We inhale, we exhale. We live. At least we think we do. I believe we’re just wined up, lick clocks... By society, and even more important, by ourselves.
Storms unwind me. They offer me clarity.
I need my storms.
That’s why, when no storm is around, I create my own dust devil. I make the wind go clockwise for a while, just till I hear myself breathing again. Till I feel enlightened...