|
|
 | |  |
| Clouds are so psychological. Look at them, those little fluffly layers of metaphores just waiting for young lovers to lay on their backs and make them into phallic shapes. | |
 | |  |
|
 |
 | |  |
| We like being phallic shapes. | |
 | |  |
|
|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| But look at me. I am flying in these clouds. I am flying in a mystical phallical land dreamed by those on the ground. Those unfortunate ones who cannot actually straddle their dreams. | |
 | |  |
|
 |
|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| But how I got to be in this palace of erected coloums of clouds is a long story, which begins with me on a hill by myself. | |
 | |  |
|
 |
 | |  |
| You aren't alone anymore, little bear | |
 | |  |
|
|
|