Raining

"I only see rainbows
Now that the bandages are gone
Through my window, there

From the skyscrapers
Down to the submarines

Birds and fairies
Sanctuaries
Atop the rolling hills of hell."

It rained. It rained again. I loved it. Despite how restricting rain can be, nothing relaxes me more. I hear rain and I just feel like half-sleeping - pillow in one ear, rain in the other... eyelids, softly shut and a drunk smile on my face. It's so nice... and drunk is the wrong word, but I'll leave it. Sometimes the wrong word deserves a run. I get a similar feeling from sitting in a car with a sunset being flickered by the trees curtaining the road. It reminds me of those old home videos, beyond my time by a fair while, where the image flickers and the sound is absent other than the humming and ticking of the projector... all in those nostalgic, sepia tones. I instantly become so sleeping seeing this, feeling this... which probably means I'll be dangerous on the road. But no! Stop thinking of the sun! This one is for the rain. Here's a picture from a while ago...

... happier times when the rain met me each morning at the doorstep and accompanied me across town, slept in the rim of my glasses and the soles of my shoes through out the day and met me once again to take me home in the afternoon. My Dad would say "Take an umbrella tomorrow! People must think your a nutter! Seriously, you look like you've drowned."

I'd agree. I did look like a soggy corpse. People must think I'm a nutter. I will take an umbrella tomorrow. The next morning, he'd sit reading his newspaper... I'd wait for him to lift the cup of tea to his mouth and I'd run for the door, jump the fence and be up the road laughing as he must have just sat there thinking "Why does my son hate umbrellas so much?"

I don't hate them. I can just live without them. He really doesn't understand but he never does. All I can hope for is more rain, come Monday.

Adios.