Clouds are so fast, much quicker than you'd think.
When you notice those majestic shapes flooding the sky, you go warn your family members about the cotton candy swirling around in the air, but chances are that by the time you get back, they have already disappeared.
Now of course, they just move from your window to another one, for another lucky person to witness. Or not to witness.
People tend to compare themselves to nature. What if we looked at ourselves as clouds?
You can be a beautiful eerie cloud, silently passing by, leaving spectators in awe of your pastel-coloured joy. Or you can be a thunderstorm, raging as you rumble and soak unfortunate beings crossing your path.
How am I a cloud?
I am that pink cloud that drifts away before anyone can take a look at the same part of me twice.
I shy away in the whole vast bright blue sky, reflected light coming from bigger, more compelling forces like the sun. When they leave me, I become part of the grey sky alongside the others.
You see, I seem to only exist in a particular way when someone else decides to view me that way.
Everyone is a cloud. ( yes, even the dead and those who call themselves "not like the others". think about it; don't we all just absorb water, use it, and then hydrate ourselves all over again? )