Saturday, February 07, 2004

hiho, just came back from training, and nursing this HUGE bruise *lol* It's brown and bronze and all in all scary to anyone seeing it *lol* I look as if I've just been in a brawl or something. *lol* My competion's tomorrow, so just trying to relax. *grin* I guess I'll just try my best! *heh*

Thanks for all the birthday wishes guys!! *big hug* V. v. sweet *heh* I guess I'm just trying to sooth my nerves now, so i'll talk about random things, if you don't mind ^^

A friend sent in some really really beautiful prose on rain the other day...which was just - beautiful - Is not fair that a person can write this good without even thinking!!! ^^ See for yourself *haha*

it rained today. and i realised, it has been a long time since i just stoned and watch the rain. i was in the library. yah, what an unromantic place to view the soft silver rain falling from the heavens. the sight took me away from my books, and just allowed me to stone in awe of this beautiful natural phenomenon. i love the rain. i love the way the droplets splatter on the window panes and slowly slip off, gong on with its natural flow of life. i love the way the green grass brighten up by the wash of the rain. i love the smell of wet grass, and the smell of the clean air. i love the little puddles formed by the rain, showing the tiny ripples that spread outwards with each drop of rain falling on it. i love the sound of the pattering rain, breaking the usual bustle of human activites. even the lightning that tears up the sky. even the roar of the thunders which shocked the world. but i think, the charm still lies in the fact that the rain, so gentle yet so strong, chases everyone back into shelter, leaving behind a scenery meant for the gods. of trees and flowers and the sky and the rain. without human intervention. without imperfection. but somehow... oh, how poignant it felt today.

the pragmatic would say: "lets get out of the rain fast. where's the fastest way into shelter!? I dun wanna get wet!"

the romantic: "let's dance a little dance in the rain! feel the puddles on my feet and cleanse my soul in the pureness of this gifts from the heavens."

the idealistic: "the beauty of the rain stretches into the moment of eternity. even when it stops, it leaves behind another pefection given by the gods - the rainbow"

the skeptic: "but the rain might be acid rain. it washes off the dirty stuff from the trees and the buildings and drip them on us. yucks"

the despressed: "the heavens are crying with me. let me wade in misery together with the wills of the god"

the optimist: "let the rain wash off the tears. wash off the unhappiness. the clear blue sky after the rain has gone through a thorough wash, and so should our souls. everything clears after the rain"

the pessimist: "the rain will never stop. think we'll be trapped here forever. no one can help us."

haha, i can think of many more. i wonder which one i am. probably there's no more pure types left in the world, so we are all a combination of them. but the rain, yeah, the rain makes you think. and sometimes, it creates this comfortable blank in your mind, as you just focus on the falling of the silvery drops. for that moment, you will just feel so... detached. detached from the world. and i was detached today. the rain did not make me think today... maybe as a reward for my overthinking the last few days. but today, it opened up its arms and accepted me into its world and i was lost in it. i sighed. and smiled. what a combination.

as i walked home today, it was still raining. i walked fast through the rain, trying to reach home as soon as i can. then suddenly my thoughts halt in its own track. why the rush? i asked myself. i like the feeling of getting wet by the rain, as long as it's not the pouring thunderstorms nor the big fat rain that hit you with force. i like the coolness of the rain. i like the thought of walking the quiet walks through a soft falling drizzle. but everyone rushes. i rush, because i do not wish to get my things wet. how ironic. that we care about our material possessions more than our self. something so instinctive but uncomprehendable. it is as if the body, with all its possibility of falling ill, could take the harshness of the rain more than the solid unfeeling file i was holding. our fallible body is less precious than the infallible file. life is so strange sometimes, so ironic, so hard to understand. i laughed and clutched my file to my chest, fearing that the ink on my assignment will get smudged, and ran my last stretch home.

stardusted at 5:21 AM | link?

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