Not knowing

I don't know very well what to think today, my mind keeps coming and going and ends up nowhere. Maybe I've turned into the Irish sky, constantly cloudy. Maybe I haven't turned into anything but what I am, someone who doesn't know where she is or where to go. Maybe the one who can't glimpse directions is myself. Who will know?
I'm sitting writing in my usual place, because there's no other place in the house for me. I look out the window and I see a crow on the roof of the neighbor. Ireland is the land of crows. I've learned to get used to them and, to tell you the truth, I like the noise they make. When I hear a crow, it's as if something from beyond is guiding me.
Life is strange, isn't it? I don't believe in anything but I like the sound of crows.
I was once told there's a very rare kind of raven, an albino, white raven. I look at the raven on the roof and hope one day I can see the white raven. Who knows?

*Picture of dexmac