The Clouds are white today.

I have been feeling disconnected today.

I tried to engage in conversation with my coworkers but my heart wasn't really in it.

Last night I got that feeling, like I and the world were about to fold in on itself and spiral into endless nothingness.

The Clouds today look beautiful and soft.

I stared up at them between the minutes of crushing agony that is the pit I call my workplace.

The clouds are as white as pillow stuffing today, 

"I don't believe it will rain."

I imagine I am trying to lay comfortably upon them but I only sink deeper until I sink past the clouds, hurdling down back to the ground desperately flapping my arms that have now become wings.

But my bones are too dense and I only propel my body down faster and faster the feathers falling off me and up into the sky.

"I want to fly!"

I cry, before my body hits the ground in a beautiful display of gore and I am once again in the pit of agony and despair.

"Why must I only deal in the extreme?", I say to myself.

I don't believe I'll ever feel clean.