city invisibility

Fell asleep to the sounds of an old man rifling through the garbage bags outside my window. He was making these noises that seemed part moan, part howl, part song, part selftalk, part pain, part gasp, like a man sized raccoon who has seen better nights. It started to rain and the rain is starting to turn into snow and the snow is turning into slush. I can feel this weather living inside my skull and there doesn't feel like there is enough room in there for both my brain and this storm. Building pressure and I think I might need to take my brain out for the evening and maybe even longer, until the sky clears. I would like to be in a boat just floating in water, and then curl up in a bird's nest for seven days and nights. You can come too.