Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Clouds Cover Sky
The Thunderbirds are based on the Native American myth of giant birds that take to the skies during, you guessed it, thunderstorms. These fuckers deviate from the other creatures, in that they are more than one, and yet they’re still a singular creature. That’s hard to explain but yeah.
Honestly, this is the one of the creatures that has the least symbolism attached to it. It is what it is. They are birds that peck the shit out of your eyes, they are birds that swoop down and carry you up to God-knows-where, they are birds that control the weather and can possibly even transform into super cells.
When they swoop down and pull you up into the atmosphere, it’s sort of like falling, in that you have no control over it. You feel the same rampant rush of air, and your heart beats at the same frantic pace. The only difference is, when you’re pulled up into the sky, you never reach solid ground again. When you fall into the sky, you never stop falling.
Or something. Insomnia is taking its toll again. I keep seeing things. The birds look suspicious. Fuck pigeons though. Rats of the sky.
If a Thunderbird heard me insult an avian fellow, he’d probably pounce upon me, clawing at my chest and pecking at my face. And then, as I scream, it would force its head into my mouth and begin to pull apart my tongue. It’ll drill into my mouth with its razor sharp beak, and take apart my head.
They watch from above, and are always, always waiting for the perfect time to strike.