200 word

 Sometimes i sit in the sun, just staring at the marshmallow fluffed clouds, making up the shapes all by myself- sometimes they’re in the shapes of dogs, rabbits or penguins, although at other times they’re fluffy and look soft as the grass i sit on- the skys are blue, much like the ocean-but not rough like the ocean- soft and smooth like watercolor paint on a wet canvas as if the sky is painted, although everyone knows the sky isnt actually painted, and the clouds are not cotton balls put in random shapes, the clouds are nothing but the evaporated water-water that has evaporated from the blades of grass that i sit upon- although i still ponder thoughts of laying upon their plush surfaces-even though everyone knows that you'll just fall through and end right back where i sit, upon the grass all alone, even though i'm not alone, with the birds flying above-also admiring the clouds- and the animals down her in the grass with me, and sometimes i also ponder if the animals themselves look upon the sky towards the clouds and see themselves in the shapes they form into, even though we all know its all in our imagination.