Birds of a feather flock together

Can't make my mind up whether or not this little procedure of mine will ever stop. I mean, I'm like a fucking swan who bends it's head down, breaks the water. But when the purpose of that action is fulfilled it simply changes back to above-water-mode. The difference between me and the swan is that I'm not welcomed back. (Ain't no fucking bird.)

The sky was hyaline when I headed for this landscape of light and thistles where they practice dreamless sleeping (yes, they're too busy daydreaming).