2

the pullover I am wearing is now getting heavy with rain water. theres always that point when a jacket doesn’t absorb the moisture, but then after a certain amount of time, all at one time the piece of clothing is soaked. And it is cold. Not cold to the bone yet, but it is cold. That cold later sets in after the adrenaline of being out in the rain wears off. Sometimes the adrenaline doesn’t always wear off. Sometimes being out in the rain on a 49 degree night reminds someone of their humanity. It brings them back to the fact that they are just a human. It helps to free me from the chains that I have given myself through my dependence on technology. I keep telling myself “Do my Homework, Do my Homework.” Eventually I get around to it, only to decide to do it the next day. Maybe it’s senioritis, or maybe it is the perpetual growth of my dependence of a technology that I believe offers me some form of support that I am not receiving elsewhere. I’m like one of those people on Intervention, except my addiction isn’t related to pushing baking soda or hydrogen peroxide into my veins, it is my desire to always been checking facebook. I wish I could break free from this cycle, but it seems to hard to shake. Once you’ve been doing something for so long, it’s hard to aclamate to life without it. Especially when you don’t have to get rid of it. Regardless, my growing disdain for my complacency on my macbook still hasn’t stopped me from creating this free writing form. Non-stop free writing until I can’t conjure any ideas. Maybe I am hoping to find something out about myself by doing this. Maybe that’s why I keep coming back to it; the more I write freely the more I discover about myself. Cliche’, I agree, but give me a break. 

Another drop hits my shoulder blade, this one truely cold. The adrenaline has worn off, and I am reminded of the times when I was forced to play in Sub-Arctic weather in Ohio for the Buckeye League. Probably some of the worst memories of my life have been created from playing for Javanon. Maybe one day I’ll look back on those days and wish I had them back. I doubt it. It would be a funny thing though if I did. 

I am running now, trying to evade the now increased downpour. It’s like a scene out of Vietnam; rain falling so hard that the visibility in front of you is just several feet. Henry already made it home. He pretty much said “Fuck you,” to me and took off to shelter of our covered porch. Can’t say I blame him. 

The point when the rain breaches through your shorts and numbs your thighs is when you realize that it really isn’t that much fun anymore. The whole thing was just a facade, bringing you to this final point where rain meets clothes and realization sets in that you are cold as fuck.

I don’t think that’s the right word I’m looking for, but hopefully it does the job to convey the point.

freewrite

Sitting at the red light on yet another sunday night. The thought of returning to school is looming in the back of my mind. I look at my windshield which is speckled with water droplets. The worst of the storm has passed, leaving it’s remnants of water particles on my window. The drizzle is still light, but not light enough for me to have to switch the window wiper on. The red reflection of the stoplight combined with water droplets creates a depressing mood. What is the purpose of each individual rain drop? Has their sole mission their entire life been to land on my windshield? what type of existence are they living? More importantly, what type of existence am I living? Confining myself to this four-wheeled box spending all the money I made working just to get from point a to point b. Which is generally from my house to work. I’m using the majority of my paycheck just to get to work. Fucked up place we live in. Maybe these raindrops have it right. They travel, free, not having to abide by the laws of any other raindrop. They all just adhere to the rule of gravity. Us humans, we try to fight the system, but all end up in the same place. It really makes me wonder what is the actual purpose for our existence. The more I think about it, the more I think the raindrops have it right.