rain
for the first time in - well, ever, i'm peeved at the rain. i still crave it, going around throwing open windows & digging out sweaters, breathing in the scent on the breeze until my fingers get too cold to type and i'm forced to close a window or two. for a while i content myself with listening to the steady drip on the roof & the occasional tap of drops hitting the window - then i warm up, and the cycle begins again.
i feel cradled by a soft, set-in-for-days, gentle but inexorable rain. i sprawl in bed and soak it in - the sound, the grey , the cool humidity and above all, the smell of it.. that peculiar smell of rain & renewal that somehow gets into my soul and that i can't help but try to taste. and i think i could sleep forever and not care - or at least as long as it kept raining. i feel isolated by the rain... sounds are muffled, no one is doing yard work, and even i feel dampened and unable to quite focus my thoughts, as if in a dream. it's almost a reset button. the rain comforts me as surely as if it were sentient & maternal - and, who knows? the yin is soothing.
(not so a thunderstorm. it jolts the reset button by way of a power overload, feeding energy into me, creating such a high from negative ions (or something) & sheer wild power that i almost think i can fly. rain so hard it stings when it hits me, showing no regard, lightning blinding me, thunder making me jump even as i feel it rumble through me... no comfort there, only an infusion of euphoria and awe.)
but this, this easy, measured, meditative watering... it blankets me, makes me feel content. and that's why i'm peeved. i came to the realization (slowly, because my thoughts are rain-laden) that i don't want to be contented right now. i want to get to the bottom of things, step off the damn roller coaster & rail at life, the universe & everything about the unfairness of revealing things better left hidden, letting me want things i don't have or worse, keeping me from having a fucking clue WHAT i want. i don't want to be quieted, i want to wallow in my discomfort & uncertainty & marvel at how grotesque my demons are & keep pushing myself to figure out something, anything at all. i want to scowl & throw a tantrum & demand that somebody fix everything and then sulk when everything is still broken. i want to kick things.
instead, i'm listening to the unrythymed music of the rain, filling my lungs with that sweetest of all air (fresh mountain air can go to hell, really) and dammit, i think i may have... yes, i believe it's just barely possible that i smiled! blasphemy!
it's not fair.
i, uh... have to go open the windows again.
i feel cradled by a soft, set-in-for-days, gentle but inexorable rain. i sprawl in bed and soak it in - the sound, the grey , the cool humidity and above all, the smell of it.. that peculiar smell of rain & renewal that somehow gets into my soul and that i can't help but try to taste. and i think i could sleep forever and not care - or at least as long as it kept raining. i feel isolated by the rain... sounds are muffled, no one is doing yard work, and even i feel dampened and unable to quite focus my thoughts, as if in a dream. it's almost a reset button. the rain comforts me as surely as if it were sentient & maternal - and, who knows? the yin is soothing.
(not so a thunderstorm. it jolts the reset button by way of a power overload, feeding energy into me, creating such a high from negative ions (or something) & sheer wild power that i almost think i can fly. rain so hard it stings when it hits me, showing no regard, lightning blinding me, thunder making me jump even as i feel it rumble through me... no comfort there, only an infusion of euphoria and awe.)
but this, this easy, measured, meditative watering... it blankets me, makes me feel content. and that's why i'm peeved. i came to the realization (slowly, because my thoughts are rain-laden) that i don't want to be contented right now. i want to get to the bottom of things, step off the damn roller coaster & rail at life, the universe & everything about the unfairness of revealing things better left hidden, letting me want things i don't have or worse, keeping me from having a fucking clue WHAT i want. i don't want to be quieted, i want to wallow in my discomfort & uncertainty & marvel at how grotesque my demons are & keep pushing myself to figure out something, anything at all. i want to scowl & throw a tantrum & demand that somebody fix everything and then sulk when everything is still broken. i want to kick things.
instead, i'm listening to the unrythymed music of the rain, filling my lungs with that sweetest of all air (fresh mountain air can go to hell, really) and dammit, i think i may have... yes, i believe it's just barely possible that i smiled! blasphemy!
it's not fair.
i, uh... have to go open the windows again.