Artistic liminality of the closed weather.

 The closing of the weather also closes the outside’s grasp on me, and what opens is my internal theater. Others wake up and see "bad" weather, but I wake up and exit the simulation, thus entering a state as if within a lucid dream, in a distinctly artistic sense. In this liminal aesthetic created by the threshold the weather offers, my imagination soars, and I abandon physicality. I feel as though the sky understands me. And within that understanding lies the sense that, with the sky now closed, it is "finally my turn" to be understood.