i love the rain. i love everything about it... the smell, the taste, the way it sounds and feels... i love the way it looks... threatening yet purifying. i love the way it reflects the sun after the clouds have passed. i love driving in it, i love running in it, playing in it, laying in it.
why do i see things like this? i don't see things how others see it... maybe. i see art in everything. i see faces in tiles and beauty in garbage. i'm thankful for this, it helps me not become depressed when things are uncomfortable. even the dark and trains and heights that i fear so much, are beautiful to me in their own ways; the dark for its ability to hide things and make my heart race and make my senses come alive, trains for holding stories and graffiti and passengers, height for its tempting fear... why do i feel like i'm just going to lose control of myself when i'm on the side of something high?
i love the way raindrops slide down the glass of windows, i love old cobwebs, and things that are worn out never look worn out to me... merely loved and used well. like an old guitar or antique furniture or converse shoes...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)




No comments:
Post a Comment