Status: x
A Philosphy.
x
"Some Feel The Rain, Others Just Get Wet."
My apartment smells like cigarettes, I opened a window to smoke but the fresh air just sweeps it back in, like a body that rejects a piercing. Not that I mind. I’m the only one around to deal with it, and obviously if it bothered me I wouldn’t have even started smoking.
It’s unusually warm for a night in the fall, but the pouring rain keeps it realistic. I looked at the people below me, driving in their cars, walking on the street under umbrellas. How they probably saw the rain as a nuisance, how it ruined their business suits and their fine leather shoes, how it must be hard to walk through puddles with stilettos. It’s funny how something so beautiful could ruin your pathetic life so much.
The fact of the matter is, you can go out and buy a new suit. You can wash it when you get home and have it out of the dryer tomorrow like nothing ever happened. You’ve probably got more than one pair of shoes, you can wear your others tomorrow. You’ll go home bitching about how horrible the weather is, take a shower and sit in front of a screen with a TV dinner until you go to bed.
Days like this don’t come often, if at all. When was the last time this city got a good downpour? The last time the rain was loud enough to rattle your rooftops, the last time the clouds swelled like a pregnant woman’s belly, the last time the rain that filled them darkened up the sky enough to be mistaken for an eclipse?
You lack the ability to see the beauty in simple things like this. Things that you could never experience from watching a mind-numbing TV show, texting your stupid boyfriend who’s probably cheating on you with your sister, updating your status with meaningless, empty words for the sake of approval from your peers in the form of ‘likes’. When was the last time you went outside? When was the last time you got up early for work but instead of hating the dawn of a new day, went out on the balcony to have your coffee and say hello to the sunrise?
You were probably six. The closest to a job you ever had was school, and you were always eager to get up in the morning. Back then, sleep was something we hated to get. We’d complain when mom called us inside because it was getting dark out, and we’d watch the fireflies from the bedroom window with all the lights off.
What happened?
As we get older we fail to see the wonder in the little things. That’s what happened. It became about what fancy new gaming system we had, who had the best phone, who had mp3 players and who had iPods, what TV shows we were watching, what social networking sites we were using, who we were meeting on them. We became ungrateful so fast, constantly needing an upgrade on everything in our lives. Electronics, clothes, even people. She didn’t fit in the clique anymore, he quit being a jock, she turned into a nerd, he became the class misfit. They all became boring, and you replaced them with newer, more interesting friends who were doing the same trendy, cookie cutter things you were.
We all did it.
When do you stop to wonder what the hell you’re doing with your life? Why are you living this way? Is there anything more to life than get up for work, go to work, come home? Is there anything more than this? Or are you just content living the way you always have. Living the way everyone else does, dressing the same, looking the same. You’re all robots. You’re programmed to be content with the mediocre life you have, but at the same time be discontent because you don’t have enough mediocre things. And as this beautiful thunderstorm happens outside, all you can think of is how it inconveniences you.
You can’t appreciate how fresh the rain is, how sweet and clean it smells, how it sticks to your skin and dampens your hair like a loving caress from Mother Nature herself. Instead, you’d rather slap her hand away from you, how dare she displease you with her beautiful presence, all because it makes your clothes and locks a little wet, even though you’re going to strip down and take a shower later.
When did the existence of humanity get so superficial?
My apartment smells like cigarettes, I opened a window to smoke but the fresh air just sweeps it back in, like a body that rejects a piercing. Not that I mind. I’m the only one around to deal with it, and obviously if it bothered me I wouldn’t have even started smoking.
It’s unusually warm for a night in the fall, but the pouring rain keeps it realistic. I looked at the people below me, driving in their cars, walking on the street under umbrellas. How they probably saw the rain as a nuisance, how it ruined their business suits and their fine leather shoes, how it must be hard to walk through puddles with stilettos. It’s funny how something so beautiful could ruin your pathetic life so much.
The fact of the matter is, you can go out and buy a new suit. You can wash it when you get home and have it out of the dryer tomorrow like nothing ever happened. You’ve probably got more than one pair of shoes, you can wear your others tomorrow. You’ll go home bitching about how horrible the weather is, take a shower and sit in front of a screen with a TV dinner until you go to bed.
Days like this don’t come often, if at all. When was the last time this city got a good downpour? The last time the rain was loud enough to rattle your rooftops, the last time the clouds swelled like a pregnant woman’s belly, the last time the rain that filled them darkened up the sky enough to be mistaken for an eclipse?
You lack the ability to see the beauty in simple things like this. Things that you could never experience from watching a mind-numbing TV show, texting your stupid boyfriend who’s probably cheating on you with your sister, updating your status with meaningless, empty words for the sake of approval from your peers in the form of ‘likes’. When was the last time you went outside? When was the last time you got up early for work but instead of hating the dawn of a new day, went out on the balcony to have your coffee and say hello to the sunrise?
You were probably six. The closest to a job you ever had was school, and you were always eager to get up in the morning. Back then, sleep was something we hated to get. We’d complain when mom called us inside because it was getting dark out, and we’d watch the fireflies from the bedroom window with all the lights off.
What happened?
As we get older we fail to see the wonder in the little things. That’s what happened. It became about what fancy new gaming system we had, who had the best phone, who had mp3 players and who had iPods, what TV shows we were watching, what social networking sites we were using, who we were meeting on them. We became ungrateful so fast, constantly needing an upgrade on everything in our lives. Electronics, clothes, even people. She didn’t fit in the clique anymore, he quit being a jock, she turned into a nerd, he became the class misfit. They all became boring, and you replaced them with newer, more interesting friends who were doing the same trendy, cookie cutter things you were.
We all did it.
When do you stop to wonder what the hell you’re doing with your life? Why are you living this way? Is there anything more to life than get up for work, go to work, come home? Is there anything more than this? Or are you just content living the way you always have. Living the way everyone else does, dressing the same, looking the same. You’re all robots. You’re programmed to be content with the mediocre life you have, but at the same time be discontent because you don’t have enough mediocre things. And as this beautiful thunderstorm happens outside, all you can think of is how it inconveniences you.
You can’t appreciate how fresh the rain is, how sweet and clean it smells, how it sticks to your skin and dampens your hair like a loving caress from Mother Nature herself. Instead, you’d rather slap her hand away from you, how dare she displease you with her beautiful presence, all because it makes your clothes and locks a little wet, even though you’re going to strip down and take a shower later.
When did the existence of humanity get so superficial?
♠ ♠ ♠
my final question to you.