The sheets of rain lash down, almost maniacal in their resolve to pound everything in the way.
The lightning flashes blindingly. For a split second, there is silence, followed by the booming thunder nearby.
The water pounds and pounds. The thunder rumbles. The lightning comes again.
The storm is hitting my windshield and the wipers struggle to move the water. Their back and forth motion is hypnotic — and I wonder whether the storm I feel and hear and fear is really outside — or if it’s inside my heart.
It’s dark and it’s loud and it’s gloomy. The storm outside the car threatens me physically, but the storm inside threatens something far deeper. Far more existential. It’s pounding on my very core again.

You always need enough money that you can quit when it’s time
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Can I reconnect with inner child who saw the world differently?
Some moms can’t handle the job, but they do the best they can
When Demopublicans and Republicrats clash, you lose
I often need to remind myself what I still believe to be true
Looking for truth in random noise? Or is there meaning for me in this?
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