when did we stop liking to play in the rain? to let those giant beads go splat on your skin.
sometimes i wish it would rain,so no one could see your tears amidst the streams of water.
i guess it is when we become sensible. when we know we will get sick the next day, and 'important things' cannot be done then.
or when it doesn't feel good anymore. to be weighed down by those waterlogged clothes. when it is not easy to lift up your face against the torrent.
like a dust ball, growing in size, provoking disgust, contempt. no one wants to associate with a dirty dust ball. it is well deserved indeed.
many times when crossing the road, i'd think maybe this is it. my life would just go *snap* like that. crossing the road near the botanic garden is more dangerous than wandering the streets in the middle of the night.
when love departs from you and leave you shivering in the cold. it is not because of the temperature. it is a heart devoid of love. your love kept me warm.
torn.i wanted to go up to give a reassuring touch on her arm, to say come, lets talk about it, to give a hug.that's when i realise how needful this cold is, so that i can empathize with others.