More philosophy than meteorology, but more substance than style, I think

Something's eating me, and I feel that the only way to call off the feast is to do a little bloodletting in public.

Figuratively speaking, of course.

You may notice I turned off the comment link; it's not that I don't value criticism and such. It's just that with this post I want to speak my peace and leave it at that this time around. You want to say something, you can just email me at logan.adams@gmail.com.



My memory often returns to the sound of thunder outside my window, how peaceful it made me feel. Thunder has been a beautiful, comforting thing to me as far back as I can remember.

Thunder is the result of lightning; Lightning the result of the buildup of electrical charge between the earth and the sky. It is a release of that built-up energy, that gathered conflict created by swirling masses of air above us and the rotating planet below us.

Thunder is a relaxing thing to me. It may not sound peaceful, but it makes me aware of newfound peace resulting from the resolution of conflict. If you open up enough, if you let yourself sense nature enough, then you start to feel the calm created by the conflict.

And you can truly savor it for all it holds.

The subways here make a sound like thunder when they tear into the station from the tunnel. I believe it's caused by the equalization of pressure created by pushing the trains through the tunnels with too little space for the air to move around them, but what the hell do I know?

I just know it doesn't carry that same feeling, there's no release of the tension, just further conflict.

Although it does bring some comfort by letting me know my ride has arrived and that I don't have to stand on the platform anymore waiting awkwardly without a thing to do....

Still, it has been a long time since I've heard thunder.

The last time I heard it? I don't know. The last time I can remember hearing it, however, was the first full week of October 2004; a time to which I wish I could return.

However, while time may seem to change in rate; that is to say it can advance from fun and slow from boredom, it does not change its direction. It goes on in a straight line forever, pulling, sometimes dragging us along. Many try to slow it, some even dare attempt to reverse it.

And they get left behind.

I don't want to turn back time, as the cliche goes.

I just want to hear some real thunder again.

Even if I have to get hit by lightning.