It is in the rain that I feel most at home. My vision grows blurry and the sheets of water that fall from the sky render everything inconsistent. Interchangeable. Like the features of my own face: they lack definition. They could be a million other things, a million other people. My face is the reflection you see in a mirror covered in steam: unfocused. My voice is the sound you hear when the airplane launches into the sky: muffled. My soul is the Times New Roman font you see in every piece of writing: nondescript. I am utterly without character, without spike. I lack definition and it is in the rain that I feel most at home, because the rain renders everything uniform, and for once, I dont feel alone.
Posted on: Fri, 05 Dec 2014 08:57:19 +0000
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