The average cloud weighs over a million pounds.
How does it float so effortlessly, despite the weight it bears?
Meanwhile, at the end of our suffering, is there relief?
A Japanese designer made a teardrop chair with 64 liters of water.
Encased in clear vinyl plastic, it rests effortlessly upon the grass.
Someone has figured out we shed 64 liters of tears in one lifetime.
Say the teardrop chair carries the water weight of our suffering.
I consider if this is all a lesson in relativity.
An average human sheds 64 liters of tears in their lifetime.
That's how much five adult blue whales weigh, altogether.
I consider if this is all a lesson in relativity,
or if gravity works differently on small water drops.
The weight of five blue whales = my tears over my entire life.
But no one ever says it's raining tears, or it's raining orcas.
Gravity works differently on small water drops, and
particles in the clear dry air weigh more than water in a cloud.
No one ever says it's raining tears, or it's raining orcas.
Meanwhile, at the end of our suffering, will there be relief?
Particles in the clear dry air weigh more than water in a cloud.
Stupendous: the average cloud weighs over a million pounds.