I said I’ll be blogging more
often but I end up breaking that promise I made to myself. Ha. It’s so me, it’s…annoying.
So, here I am two months after my
first post. With nothing but one (one!)
write-up on…writing. Amazing. As in, amazingly lazy. I have been amazingly lazy. :))
I asked my younger sister what I
should write about today. She said I should write about the weather, about the rain. And so, I
shall.
You know how the story goes. Clouds
absorb water vapor, condense this vapor and, when they forget that they’re made of water, too, and feel
like they’ve had too much, they – well – spit them back to the ground (sort of like when you drink too many orange-flavored
cocktails…but, that’s a different story).
We’re all like clouds sometimes.
We absorb these bits and pieces of problems other people have around us. We
analyze them and we think of what to do with them. We try to help them because
we love them or we care for them or we have no choice…whatever, we have our
reasons. At times, we forget that we, too, have problems. We feel like we are
carrying too much load on our shoulders and so we cry. Or mope. Others do their
own version of spitting and spit nails, shouting their anger out.
It’s not fair to be angry with
the world but you can’t help it sometimes. You feel injustice, yet there is no
one to blame. You feel injustice because there
is no one to blame. You know that, in a way, everyone is just a victim of his
or her own cruel fate. Yet, for some weird twisted reason, you blame the world.
You shout and are angry because of the small things when you want to be angry
for the bigger, more complex things. You are angry because your dreams didn’t
come true, because you don’t have enough money or because he didn’t love you
enough to stay. You’re angry because you screwed up. You’re angry because you
didn’t want to screw up, but you did. You’re angry because you’ve never felt
this angry before and it just keeps on flowing out – you keep on spitting it
out – like there’s no tomorrow.
And, when you have finally spit it all out, people will react
differently. Some will marvel at the beauty of how intense you can feel and
draw inspiration from it. They will write, paint, burst out singing because of
it. But these are people who probably see things from afar; people who are
protected by their roofs during the thunderstorm, wrapped in thick blankets and
looking out their windows, observing how much more water the rain can produce. Some,
the ones in the same situation as those who felt inspired by your ranting, will
yawn and sleep. Some will get really shocked then really mad; those who, without
umbrellas or raincoats, got wet and inconvenienced because they didn’t expect
that such downpour could happen without much notice. Of course, there will
always be those who would shrug, get their umbrellas from their bags, open them
and walk away.
I think you should walk away,
too. We should walk away, too. Walk away from all the pain and the anger and
the hurt, especially if the rain is gone. Instead, look for your rainbow (if
there is one. They’re very rare nowadays, rainbows) and be thankful. You’ve survived
the storm.
On this day of your life, [we
believe] God wants you to know that faith in yourself will see you through. You are strong and can deal with anything
that life throws at you. Take a deep breath and be filled with the knowledge
that you can deal with all things.
