Its only been five days and already I can feel the rain on the inside of my skull, making my head soft and moldy. I'm tired of spending all day with the sound of rain in my ears. Sure, it was nice at first. I was thirsty at first! Now everytime i hear the rain, everytime i realize I can't go outside without an umbrella or closed to shoes, every time my head gets wet or I wake up dreaming of waterfalls and really needing to piss, I just want to scream. Scream like rape and murder so that people come looking for me. Maybe they'll bring an umbrella. Maybe they'll bring back the sun.
Listen to it? Plink! Plonk! Plat-Plat-Plat! I haven't been thirsty for days. Rahtid.
I had to get out of the house today. I had to get out of the city! The water rushes through the drains and once, when I was a child, I would be riding in them like a luge of morass. But right now, I'm old. Still young by some measure, but I don't like the way it makes my knees feel. I don't even want to take a walk in the rain the way i would do when I was only a little bit younger. Damn city too small for a city. Damn trees and shrubs too happy to hear from the long absent rain. Damn sidewalks that feel like I'm walking on rotten vegetables.
I'd drive, but I'm afraid of the wet road. Instead, i think I'll put my life in someone else's hands. And while someone else drives, i'll watch the sky. Just drive. When the clouds stop looking like tarnished silver and start looking like something i'd like to scoop up in my hand and press into my mouth, then we can stop. And we can make grass angels. And count bugs. And dread going back to the rain.
Listen to it? Plink! Plonk! Plat-Plat-Plat! I haven't been thirsty for days. Rahtid.
I had to get out of the house today. I had to get out of the city! The water rushes through the drains and once, when I was a child, I would be riding in them like a luge of morass. But right now, I'm old. Still young by some measure, but I don't like the way it makes my knees feel. I don't even want to take a walk in the rain the way i would do when I was only a little bit younger. Damn city too small for a city. Damn trees and shrubs too happy to hear from the long absent rain. Damn sidewalks that feel like I'm walking on rotten vegetables.
I'd drive, but I'm afraid of the wet road. Instead, i think I'll put my life in someone else's hands. And while someone else drives, i'll watch the sky. Just drive. When the clouds stop looking like tarnished silver and start looking like something i'd like to scoop up in my hand and press into my mouth, then we can stop. And we can make grass angels. And count bugs. And dread going back to the rain.
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