I love this storm, Why don't you?

There is this storm, it’s here and there. Its really everywhere. Sometimes outside, sometimes within.
I am not quite sure if it’s a portent of the good or the bad. Adage says it’s a symbol of things going awry; it’s a symbol of turmoil, an indication of bad times to come.
My heart tells me it’s just a bunch of clouds blocking the sun, it allows me to look at the sky without the usual beads of perspiration on my forehead, I’m free from the squinting eyes.
I see people running, taking shelter. I stand there transfixed. I find myself getting drenched. I close my eyes. I let the storm swirl all around. My heart flutters a little, and then beats steady.
The turmoil of the storm churns me up. It takes me to thoughts and moments I’ve never experienced before. It rids me of the inertia, it propels me to explore.
The gusts of wind, with their mighty force crash into me, against me, instigating action. The rain seeps into my pores. It creeps out the inaction.

I look up to the sky, I wait for another storm.