It’s a beautiful Spring morning. The temperatures are hovering steadily around 60. A puff of clouds, very thin, streak the sky. It’s a beautiful day to be out, right under the sun. I have the perfect balcony for that. So I spend the morning absorbing as much sun as possible.
The weather for me has always been a metaphor for my mood fluctuations. I used that in a poem I wrote while Hypomanic and in College many years ago. It seems so perfect. It fits snugly. Um. What will today feel like? Today will be dark and cloudy. Rain possible. Damn. What a pity. Look. It’s sunny outside.