The rain never scared me.
What is fearful about wet toes and slick hair?
It’s just water;
the same water that you scrub your body under;
that you gulp hastily after a run (probably cleaner than the water you sweat from said run);
you get wetter and colder when you dive into the icy ocean;
your clothes are just as soaked in the laundry.
I guess it’s the willingness of the individual to interact with the water and only in their preferred context that rain receives the accolade for shitty weather.
Sorry did I not get your consent to rain on you?
Let me just wait till you’re out of your fur overcoat and sparkling sneakers. I’ll crank up the heating (global warming) so it’s at a tolerable temperature.
Rain speaks to me the way astrology speaks to a heartbroken teenage girl (I can make fun of them I was her once).
Cathartic, cleansing, brazen.
It gives no shit as to what you’re doing, your schedule is of little matter. It breathes life into greenery, washes away grime, hitting the refresh for a brand new sunny day, maybe even a rainbow.
Identical elements from the sky; pour from my eyes.