We are stardust, we are golden, caught in the devil's bargain, and we got to get ourselves back to the garden.

It has recently occured to me that no matter how much a person attempts to alter theirselves, by way of the decisions one makes in their life, that they are not any more of an individual. This is simply demostrative of a rebelious nature. Clouds are nothing more than water and dust no matter how puffy they are or how high they float. Whether or not a storm is just vapor in malcontent is questionable, it is certainly something to ponder.