It’s another crazy weather day. I find something thrilling about weather like this. As I write it has become quite dark as clouds close in. The wind blows like the billio, as it has for the last 24 hours. Soon enough the rain will come. Then it will go again. The clouds will clear and the sun will shine. The wind will keep up, and at some point the whole thing will be repeated again into the night.
I’ve just escaped it. I went to take Rigby for a walk and thought fuck, that wind’s cold. I looked about me, at the empty streets and the clouds the colour of a day old bruise and thought nup, sorry old fella, no walk today.
It was like this last night, the wind blowing and blowing. The front gate slipped its fastening in the force of the wind and would bang every 10 seconds or so. I lay there listening to the wind, rapt in its power, and then the gate banging forlornly, till the point came that I slipped on a pair of pants and went outside to properly secure it. The same thing happened a moment ago. I’ve now got it wedged shut with a brick. It’s a wondrous thing wind like this. Where does it come from? What does it mean?