The grey paints a new color to the overcast sky every other second. The metamorphosing color sits between the shades of white and black made from the clouds that decorate it, replacing the blue. Among the airplanes, the birds, the sounds, the helicopters and the fake dullness, the uncertain stormy rain brings fear, uneasiness, and sadness to those who might have plans ruined, or happiness to those who need some raindrops to fall and wash their soul, or for the lightning to make company to their grief.
Simplesmente um parágrafo que escorreu na minha mente. Feito merda (sim, se fala merda neste blog). Mas quem sabe isso adube alguma coisa…
