The Weather of Soul

Raining, raining, and raining. I find peace in rain and kinda enjoy it, regarding of my prayer in the last summer. I wished the summer would end ASAP, and i wished for the rain. Well i guess this is the answer of my prayer; I got cold, my laundry won't dry, and the house is getting more like a prison as the rain comes.

I remember those days when i was getting fed-up with sunlight, hot weather, and sweats. I started hating summer. The thirst, the anger, the heat. Those things made me nuts. I got very emotional in the summer and i felt like i wanted to scream the shit outta myself and go mad.

I always like having hot coffee, and it didn't feel right in the summer. I tried it a couple times and the result was always the same. I got hotter, covered in sweats, and ended-up listening to Slipknot's 'People = Shit' on repeat.

Summer always feels annoying to me. It's like getting burned alive while tied by sharp strings of anger. I got sensitive. Although i'm pretty good at controlling temper, but still, i'm the wrong guy to mess up with in the summer. Trust me, you'll regret it. I know damn well how to mentally hurt some douche.

One day, i woke up at 2:00 AM and it was raining. I knew it was the time to say goodbye to summer. I went out while my whole family was sleeping. I sat on the porch, trying to enjoy the moment i've been praying for. I let my face got gently splashed by the rain sparks. I let my whole body, mind, and soul got blown by the peaceful breeze. I almost fell asleep and decided to go back onto the bed.

Enjoying rainy season feels like celebrating the death of summer to me. It's like welcoming the troops that have just killed my enemy. Especially if you're an introvert. The rain knows how to treat you well.

I don't know whether being an introvert is a way to be my true self, or it's just a state of denial to avoid my disappointing social life. Disappointing lover. But what i know for sure is that i really enjoy being an introvert. And the rain cooperates very well.

Rain became one of my excuses to refuse going out. I like being a prisoner in my own house. I like being trapped with good books, psychological-thriller movies, and hot coffee. I love doing those while it's raining outside. Feels like heaven.

I pushed my limit until my head was full of plot twists from psychological-thriller movies, thought-provoking ideas from good books, and stimulating caffeine from cups of hot coffee. I reached my limit. My head hurted. I went out and sat on the porch, watching the lovely thing that has imprisoned me.

I focused up my senses on the rain. I watched it, listen to it, smelled it, tasted it, felt it. It was like having an intercourse with rain. I'd call it 'raingasm'. But sometimes, rain could be hurtful as well.

I see rain as drops of memories. Each drop contains a particular memory that makes me too sad to remember it. Maybe because i've got rain involved in a song that i wrote and dedicated for someone. A song that was supposed to be a love song, but it turned out being a song of shame.

I would never listen to that song anymore. It feels too painful to fill my head with my own voice of meaningless adoration. And in some rainy nights, i secretly wish and imagine that the song would be played on my wedding. Yeah, call me pathetic, call me whatever you will.

As the rainy season dies, my melancholic side of soul fades out. And as the summer resurrects, the fierce side takes control. And those sides of my soul are covered by masks of social conformity; joy and hospitality.