Today, it rained so damn hard. It was five o'clock. But the sky was again so dark it looked like it was five o'clock twelve hours earlier. After a while, without any thunders, lightnings or the first batch of water from the sky that may prepare us, it rained.
The water hitting the earth made different sounds. On my roof, they made an unrythmically tap-dance-like noise. Outside on the balcony, they created splashes. Down there on the ground, I assumed that it made a tiny thumping thud.
While falling, the streams of water created this beautiful illusion on the air. They made the air misty. White but not white. Dark but not grey. Foggy but no fog. Just remarkably beautiful.
And only at this time I realized that every time it rained hard I wanted to tell someone about it. Just a random someone from my phone book or my friends list on an IM or my I-know-them-but-I-do-not-really-know-them-to-tell-some-personal-stuff. I think, I just want them to know that they're there where they are, and I'm here where I am, and we may share the same existence, but we are on opposite sides of things.
I do miss rain. But not as much as missing telling someone that it rains.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
If I were Joey, I would go, " The rain is wet, Ross and I had sex yesterday. " Huehheh..
And If I were Marc, I would have replied with, "Inhale Ricky Martin. Exhale Colin Farrell." Huehehehhe..
Post a Comment