Finding sanctuary in the music library, I look out the water-stained window to observe.It's an outright war out there. My peers dodge left and right, side-stepping puddles and slippery concrete. In the sea of umbrellas, a handful give in, folding outwards to succumb to the rain's relentless downpour. It's quite obvious that we're losing.
But the destruction is beautiful. Water droplets form white sheets of virtual bullets. How can something so beautiful be so...destructive?
Rainstorms always remind me of home. I was happier to see rainy days because that meant classes would be canceled. My siblings and I would stay home, doing absolutely nothing as we waited for the electricity to come back on, snacking on what should have been our days' baon. Those were happier times. Now, I realize that my rainy day celebrations equated to the complete upheaval of the lives of other families. (Eerie: Pandora just started playing Rihanna's "Umbrella.")
I still wish for it to rain, don't get me wrong. Being in California would be utterly unbearable if everyday was just so sickly sunshine-y (Seattle, anyone?). I guess I'm just not too blatant about it anymore. :)
4 comments:
Isn't it amazing how radically different things can be from person to person?
The destructiveness of a drop of water - reminds me of a line from Beirut's "Guyamas Sonora":
"A flood through my tear."
IT would be unbearable if it was sunshine-y here all the time shoot.
But you know what? Everytime it rains I feel happy and sad at the same time. Happy because I love the sound, smell and sight of it. Sad because I can't help but to think about how the homeless people feel.
Exactly. Here in Berkeley, you can't help but think of homeless people because they're everywhere. One man always sleeps on top of this one manhole on Bancroft Avenue; I see him on my way to class every day. When it was raining, of course he wasn't there. :(
Dude the streets of Berkeley are beautiful and sad at the same time for that one reason. * sigh.
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