Mountain to mountain

Rain kills my drive.
It's as if my whipped topping has been pelted by so much pea-gravel.
And it's not pretty.

Not to say that I'm in any way less determined, it's more that I feel like every step takes three times as much energy, focus, and strength as it might if there were blue skies and yellow rays instead of this gritty drip drop.

The dry skin around my fingernails reminds me that the precipitation is only temporary.
Brighter days really are just around the corner.
And what's more I'm not completely without light, happiness, joy.
There are so many, many things for which I am undyingly grateful:

-I'm working
-I'm writing
-I'm seeing & hearing
-I'm peaceful
-I'm not lonely

Whenever the clouds roll in and the city goes back to being an ashy cave I want to roll over in bed and go back to being asleep and inert.
But this cannot (and will not) be.
There is too much I am finally understanding, finally accepting to run from it in light of the weather.
No more shall Phaeton's presence (or absence) dictate my actions.
I've gone too many days, weeks, years living on a leash fastened to that golden chariot.
It's high time that I cut myself free and run amongst the horizons choosing my own.