warmth after the rain
Yesterday was one heck of a rainy day. It was only mildly sunny during the middle of it, most of the time the rain was pelting through the windows.
I love rain. I love the smell of it, I love how it makes my feet and hands cold and I'd have to wear socks to warm my feet, I love how I can have the obligatory champorado (warm chocolate porridge, I think, is what it's called in English), and I just love how it oddly makes me feel peaceful inside. I lie in bed with Tori Amos or Sarah McLachlan playing in the background, the window blinds swaying with the wind, and I think how absolutely fantastic life is at the moment.
When I woke up this morning, the sun wasn't shining in it's usual glaring way, the birds weren't tweeting annoyingly, and there was still the cold air left from last night's rain. I lay in bed, relishing that moment -- and wondered how many more days would I be able to experience such. How many more days before I worry about getting myself on time for work, about taxes and bills, about cleaning the place I'm staying, about the meal I'll be eating? I'm a bit of a pampered/spoiled little ass (although I am probably capable of doing household chores if I wanted to) and it scares and excites me at the same time at the prospect of being responsible for myself. I think it scares me more, because some people (parents and close relatives) have certain expectations of me, and I'm afraid I won't be able to live up to it.
I don't think there is something that requires my immediate attention after this Tuesday, so I hope I'd get another chance to get that odd, warm feeling waking up after a day full of rain.
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I used to have a blog, before I converted it to a portfolio/art site. I'd post lengthy, (probably) corny and cringe-worthy thoughts about what I'm feeling over certain stuff, my thoughts on things as mundane as sunrise or sunset, anything except detailing what happened to me during the day. I don't know, I never found much interest reading a blow-by-blow account of someone's day -- I found more interest in a person's emotions and thoughts, and I miss reading them.
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HUH. He talked to me. Talked. To ME. *giggles*
We can be like, a meter or two from each other, both staring into nothingness, and he still won't talk to me. I would have, because I'm friendly like that (haha) but I'm afraid of rejection -- I so do not want initiating a conversation with people who I'm not sure would want to talk to me.
Eh, but hey, he talked to me! Asked if I (or we, as in me and my sister, can't remember) would be going to the church's youth camp. And I was like, "um...would you guys be going?"
Yep. Way smooth. And not too obvious too.
I think I'll have to hide my face next Sunday.
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Why in hell is PS closing by itself? Annoying! I'm trying to make Sark/Sarkney stuff and it shuts down! Arrr.
I love rain. I love the smell of it, I love how it makes my feet and hands cold and I'd have to wear socks to warm my feet, I love how I can have the obligatory champorado (warm chocolate porridge, I think, is what it's called in English), and I just love how it oddly makes me feel peaceful inside. I lie in bed with Tori Amos or Sarah McLachlan playing in the background, the window blinds swaying with the wind, and I think how absolutely fantastic life is at the moment.
When I woke up this morning, the sun wasn't shining in it's usual glaring way, the birds weren't tweeting annoyingly, and there was still the cold air left from last night's rain. I lay in bed, relishing that moment -- and wondered how many more days would I be able to experience such. How many more days before I worry about getting myself on time for work, about taxes and bills, about cleaning the place I'm staying, about the meal I'll be eating? I'm a bit of a pampered/spoiled little ass (although I am probably capable of doing household chores if I wanted to) and it scares and excites me at the same time at the prospect of being responsible for myself. I think it scares me more, because some people (parents and close relatives) have certain expectations of me, and I'm afraid I won't be able to live up to it.
I don't think there is something that requires my immediate attention after this Tuesday, so I hope I'd get another chance to get that odd, warm feeling waking up after a day full of rain.
-----
I used to have a blog, before I converted it to a portfolio/art site. I'd post lengthy, (probably) corny and cringe-worthy thoughts about what I'm feeling over certain stuff, my thoughts on things as mundane as sunrise or sunset, anything except detailing what happened to me during the day. I don't know, I never found much interest reading a blow-by-blow account of someone's day -- I found more interest in a person's emotions and thoughts, and I miss reading them.
-----
HUH. He talked to me. Talked. To ME. *giggles*
We can be like, a meter or two from each other, both staring into nothingness, and he still won't talk to me. I would have, because I'm friendly like that (haha) but I'm afraid of rejection -- I so do not want initiating a conversation with people who I'm not sure would want to talk to me.
Eh, but hey, he talked to me! Asked if I (or we, as in me and my sister, can't remember) would be going to the church's youth camp. And I was like, "um...would you guys be going?"
Yep. Way smooth. And not too obvious too.
I think I'll have to hide my face next Sunday.
-----
Why in hell is PS closing by itself? Annoying! I'm trying to make Sark/Sarkney stuff and it shuts down! Arrr.