142: storm in my heart

feels like there's a storm in my heart
because my eyes keep raining


2017-04-20 2pm

131: nts

in case you forgot,
you are more than blood and bones and tinglings and thoughts.

in case you forgot,
you are a complex being, fragile but loved but tired but brave.

in case you forgot,
you are human.

it's okay to just be.
it's okay to just feel
hell, it's okay to just feel sorry for yourself
sometimes
it's - okay, breathe, breathe, breathe
in
and
out
and in
and out and
internalising toxicity has never done you any good -- no matter how many times you replay all the guilt of the past three decades making you constantly feel like you are
out of time
out of control
out of your mind
but of all the things that you stop yourself from doing out of fear,
please don't stop yourself from living because you're scared of being burnt.
sometimes facing your fires is the only way to let out steam,
so go ahead:
shout at the sea at the top of your lungs at 2 in the morning --
use vibrating showerheads on lazy sunday mornings or lonely weekday nights --
down llaollao generously topped with rainbow sprinkles and crushed graham cookies --
let tears extinguish your flaming eyesmindtongueclenchedfists -- just
let it
all
out
and give yourself
permission
to accept that you may be an organised mess
that you may lose yourself in
but will eventually find your way out at some point.

instead of fixating on the hands of the hours and minutes and seconds tick tick ticking away
as you tick tick untick no tick get ticked off by the things in your neverending checklists
try to accept that you'll only be able to see yourself in retrospect so you can't timetravel back to fix your future but also
try not to worry too much if you can't seem to live in the present the way self-help books keep telling you to.

i know your eyes are covered with layers of open-burn smoke disney-tinted lenses underneath half-eyelids wishing they could remain closed
and it's okay that the only thing you can see most of the time are your hands wiping away frustrations from your eyes, creases from your forehead, and snot from your nostrils
because your sweaty palms and farmer-like digits and unpolished nails
have helped you verbalise what you think and want and need,
have clawed into your aggressor's hands at your most vulnerable,
have cupped water for you to gargle after supermintyhot mouthwash,
have on countless occasions placed antiseptic and plaster on your scraped knees,
have pushed yourself up after kissing the earth from falling down, thanking god, or both,
have touched and tickled and been tingled by those who have returned your love - no matter how brief; despite
having been born or shaped or grown or scarred in ways that are unacceptable in other people's eyes,
they are a part and a reflection of what you are and what you are capable of:
perfectly flawed but able to do and carry and protect and heal
more than you can possibly believe.

so please,
forgive yourself
as much and often as you give excuses for other peole being the way they are
for you not being more
for the times you regress and fall through
for all the opportunities you probably missed because you couldn't get up right away or in time or at all.

because really
it's okay
to not be okay all the time.

2017-04-19 6.26pm

116: (b)leaky heart

why, leaky bleak heart
overbrimmed with unspoken
words, do(es) i(t) matter?

89: curses

the papers
will not mark themselves

so
in between
black coffee fixes
and coughing spells
and trance-like eyes
at an ungodly hour

in between
scolding myself
in the office,
it's nice when
someone is willing to talk
about
something
everything
and nothing.

even when there's someone.
especially when there's no one.

but alas,

the papers
will not mark themselves.

71: boiling point

It's not fair that you
allow your eyes to wander, while
I simmer inside

It's not fair when you
let your eyes wander; it makes
me simmer inside.

Nov 3rd 11.52am

69: School blues

rewind ten years back
around this time of the year
and you will find
a student in her teens, and

fast forward 10 years
back to this time of the year
and you will find
a teacher teaching teens, and


both are in denial
of the fact
that school starts
in
one
week.

60: estranger

stranger
th/æ/n fiction,
stranger

th/ɛ/n reality,

stranger(,)
th/æ/(ɛ)/n everything
i thought i knew

(about you) is

fiction-worthy, th/ɛ/n

reality sinks in, th/æ/t

you
are

(/ə/) stranger.

- 8/12/12 2.37pm

stranger
th/æ/n fiction,

stranger
th/æ/n reality,

stranger
th/æ/n everything
i thought
i knew

is the sudden awareness that
you
are
(/ə/) stranger.

- 8/12/12, 2pm

56: into thin air

would they notice, if
i disappeared into thin
air? no, i doubt it.

unworthy of being visible in their eyes.

52: Submerged

Somehow,
I find myself in the middle
of the sunken fields of Despair
again.

But I am not stationary.
And I am not alone.
Because the weight of
pent-up tears and
the wrench of
dark undercurrents 

make me sink
faster, deeper

into the overbrimmed
realms of Dysphoria,

the dystopic home of

the rejected,
the tormented,
the dejected,

the fragmented.

Here is where

you will find those
who are in want of 

a teaspoon of Concern,

a big pinch of Gratitude,

a handful of Appreciation,

a morsel of Happiness,

a sprinkle of Hope;

from those whom
they care about the most

(from those who
care about them the least).

Struggling together in
solitude: suffocating in this
sea of hot ever-flowing tears and

sobs of endless desperation from being

souls trapped in lucklustre, unfulfilled lives

still trying to seek someone who understands, to
save us from ourselves. But there is nowhere to go but

Down.

And the lower I go, 

the more I give in

the more I give up

the less I give a fuck 

about the world.
About all this.

Will this go on forever? Will this abruptly end?

Will this just end up being a nightmare,
where I wake up drenched in my own sweat?

And ah, what if I'm able to save myself

But am unable to save the others,

especially those who dragged
me all the way down here?

Do I leave them?
Not an option.

I couldn't

I can't

I won't.


old:

in the middle
of the sunken
fields of
Despair,
the weight of
pent-up tears and
the wrench of
dark undercurrents 

make me sink
faster, deeper

into the overbrimmed
realms of Dysphoria,

the dystopic residence of

the rejected,
the tormented,
the dejected,

the fragmented.

Here is where

you will find those who 

lack and are in want of 

a teaspoon of Concern,

a big pinch of Gratitude,

a handful of Appreciation,

a morsel of Happiness,

a sprinkle of Hope;

from those whom
they care about the most

(from those who
care about them the least).

So I
suffocate in this

sea of tears as the

sighs of desperation from

souls trapped in lucklustre lives

seeking those who can try to understand.

But there seems to be nowhere to go but down.

And the lower I go, 

the more I give in

the more I give up

the less I give a fuck 

about the world.
About all this.

Will this go on forever? Will this abruptly end?

Will this just end up being a nightmare,
where I wake up drenched in my own sweat?

And ah, what if I'm able to save myself

But am unable to save the others,

especially those who dragged
me all the way down here?

Do I leave them?
Not an option.

I couldn't

I can't

I won't.

48: reaching mars

finalised:

in this vast space of lights and blackholes galore
i'm an estranged loner, nothing more than a bore
because to call me a venus just doesn't quite cut it,
i'm more a pluto, of quite a different composite:

i'm foreign, icy and physically out of reach,
a pretty unspectacular rock, but i do beseech
you to walk in my shoes, see things where i stand;
although i know it's not easy to comprehend
as you're much closer to our point of energy
while i'm just out here searching for synergy
of prospective beings, and the keyword is hoping --
of prospective beings (in the end i'm just hoping
-- most of the time it's my only way of coping).

yet even if i'm out here, all distant and far
doesn't mean i'm blind, i can still see the star,
like a fiery top twirling in an ebony sea
of obscure orbits -- we're just Not meant to be.

last updated: 2016-02-01 8.58pm
last updated: 13/11/12 12.33am

-----
somehow being a venus just doesn't quite cut it,
i'm more a pluto, of quite a different composite.

i'm foreign, icy and physically out of reach,
a pretty unspectacular rock, but i do beseech
you to walk in my shoes, see things from where i stand;
although i know it's not easy to comprehend
as you're much closer to our flaming source of energy
while i'm just hanging around here hoping for synergy
of the future generation (and the keyword is hoping --
honestly, most of the time it's my only way of coping)
but in this dimension with lights and blackholes galore,
i am but an estranged loner, nothing but a bore.

but even if i'm out here, all distant and far
doesn't mean i'm blind, i can still see the star,
spinning like a fiery top without falling to one side,
making our orbits eternal... we will never collide.

i admit, i'm still clueless of where this will all lead
but what i know for sure is that all dwarfs still bleed.




29/10/12 6.59pm

===

revised?


somehow being a venus just doesn't quite cut it,
i'm more a pluto, of quite a different composite.

i'm foreign, icy and physically out of reach,
pretty much an unspectacular rock, but i do beseech
you to try seeing things from where i stand;
although i know it's not easy to comprehend
as you're closer to our flaming source of energy
while i'm just hanging around here hoping for synergy
of the future generation (and the keyword is hoping --
honestly, most of the time it's my only way of coping)
but in this space, with lights and blackholes galore,
an estranged object as i couldn't be more of a bore.


i admit, i'm still clueless of where this will all lead
but what i know for sure is that all dwarfs still bleed.


but even if i'm out here, all distant and far
doesn't mean i'm blind, i can still see the star,

glaring bright in the centre of our space,
but will this be my resting place?


to top it off, our sun spins on, not falling to one side,
making our orbits eternal... we will never collide.

29/10/12 6.59pm

38: fragile

hearts are such fragile things.

once broken, they're not easy to fix.
once shattered, they're not easy to pick.

sure, you can try to
glue the pieces back together,
tape the cracks to mend them better,
stitch the chunks to make them gather;
and if you succeed,
you should end up with a
(swollen, glued, taped and stitched up) heart
which
if you look closely,
real closely,
will still beat
albeit ever so slowly.

of course, that's if you can look past
the brown-stained glue, tape and stitches and
the crimson droplets slowly oozing out
of the gaps between them.

hearts are such fragile things, after all.
so won't you handle them with care?

33: The Neverending bundles of Joy

Once, I saw a colourful curse
gorgeously graffitied
on an otherwise unflattering floor.
The menacing message read:

"May you enjoy marking
our assessments
as much as we enjoyed
answering them".

Try dodging that, fellow teachers!

Happy Exam Season.

32: marking blues

the test papers
in my bag
are only half-done;
but i
really
really
don't feel like
marking right now.

lord help me.

27: Unsound (Public Transport People #2)

i can't remember how it started, but

the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she didn't know when to get off.
she was simply told
to get on at kl sentral,
then get off at senawang.

it was her first time on a komuter.

white-haired, deaf, and illiterate,
she only had a bag of clothes
and a torn paper with a scribbled number
without a phone to call it with.

it was her first time on a komuter.

as her petite frame shrinked further into her seat
and her tired, weary eyes repeatedly searched the carriage
perhaps for a familiar face,
perhaps for some kind of miracle,
in the end, the only thing she could do
was wait until she stops at a train station

that she couldn't even read the name of.


last updated: 2016-01-31 7.10pm

---


everytime i think of this old lady, my heart breaks.

---


as i boarded the ktm
the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she wasn't sure where to stop.
she was simply told to
get on at kl sentral, and
get off at senawang,
on a komuter train -- her first time in her life -- without anyone to accompany her.

it seems incomprehensible to me that
she can't hear or say much
(she's quite deaf, you see),
and she can't read much,
(she's quite illiterate, you see),
and she doesn't have a phone
(because let's be realistic here -- it's not like she can hear or talk or read anything on a phone),

and yet here she is,
this teary-eyed white-haired woman in her 70's,
sitting in a moving train she has never been on,
not knowing how to read a route map
(or even how to tell the time),
and frightened and alone and overwhelmed that
she is a deaf and illiterate woman in her 70's
without a definite means to say "I'm here!" to,
and the only thing she could do
was wait for someone to get her when she stops at a station

that she can't even read the name of.

=============

i can't remember how it started, but

the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she wasn't sure where to stop.
she was simply told
(by the son and daughter) to
get on at kl sentral, and
get off at senawang,
on a ktm komuter -- for her first time in her life -- without anyone to accompany her.

it seems incomprehensible to me that
she can't hear or say much
(she's quite deaf, you see),
and she can't read much
(she's quite illiterate, you see),
and she doesn't have a phone
(because COME ON -- it's not like she can hear or talk or read anything on a phone),

and yet here she is,
this teary-eyed white-haired woman in her 70's,
sitting in a moving train she has never been on,
not knowing how to read a route map
(or where 'senawang' even is)
and frightened and alone and overwhelmed because
she is a deaf and illiterate woman in her 70's
who could only wait for someone to get her when she stops at a station

that she can't even read the name of.


8.24pm

---

i can't remember how it started, but

the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she wasn't sure where to stop.
she was simply told
(by her son and daughter) to
get on at kl sentral, and
get off at senawang,
on a ktm komuter -- for the first time in her life -- without anyone to assist her.

it seems incomprehensible to me that
she can't hear or say much
(she's quite deaf, you see),
and she can't read much
(she's quite illiterate, you see),
and she doesn't have a phone
(because LET'S BE REALISTIC -- it's not like she can hear or talk or read anything on a phone),

and yet here she is,
this teary-eyed white-haired woman in her 70's,
sitting in a moving train she has never been on,
without a clue of how to read a route map, and

without any way of saying (to whoever is picking her up) "I'm here!".


sitting next to strangers
who can barely understand her, and
trying to hold back feelings of sadness, fear,
loneliness and how overwhelmed she was
as a deaf and illiterate woman in her 70's
sitting in a moving train with no familiar faces around her
and the only she could do,
was wait for someone to get her when she stops at a train station

that she can't even read the name of.

---


i can't remember how it started, but

the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she wasn't sure where to stop.
she was simply told
(by her son and daughter) to
get on at kl sentral, then
get off at senawang
on a ktm komuter (for the first time in her life -- and without any assistance).

it seems incomprehensible to me that
she can't hear or say much
(she's quite deaf, you see),
and she can't read much
(she's quite illiterate, you see),
and she doesn't have a phone
(because LET'S BE REALISTIC -- it's not like she can hear or talk or read anything on a phone),
and yet here she is, this
white-haired woman in her 70's,
sitting in a vehicle she has never been on,
without a clue of how to read a route map, and
without any way of saying (to whoever was going to pick her up) "I'm here!".

sitting next to those who can
barely understand what she utters,
her watery eyes, reflecting
her fear of uncertainty and abandonment,
look around at the unfamiliar faces
with hope but in vain
because the only thing she could do
was wait for someone to get her when she stops at a train station

that she can't even read the name of.

---

13: Driven to sadness

It fell. It slipped out,
hitting the hard floor. Shock sets
in: death in my hands.

I just ruined my external hard drive because of my own carelessness. Just perfect.

11: Mis Queridas

We hug; bottled-up
tears burst out against my will.
Till we meet again.

This is for all those times I said farewell to the people I love.

My family visited me for a while recently, and when I sent them off I didn't take it very well. It didn't help that it was 'that' time of the month, the flight was super early, and I had only a few hours' sleep the night before. I'm so thankful that I had someone by my side at the time, if not I would've been really in the dumps. I love my family so much.

There'll be another sad farewell in about 2 months, but this time I'll be the one who's leaving. May God give us strength to overcome the pain, because I know it's going to be hard for the both of us. Thank You for lending me my sunshine to me the past few years. I hope we'll live on with smiles on our faces and peace in our hearts.

1: Her Puddle

The alarm clock started to beep at exactly half-past seven, as it always does. That particular day however, the alarm rudely interrupted a pleasant dream Sade was having. She couldn't remember what happened or even who was in it, but she knew it was a nice dream, which is something she hadn't had in a while. At least, not since the accident.

"Tch. Why do alarms always go off at the best part?", she grunted, as the deafening sound continued.

Annoyed, she reached out to try to silence the damn thing, and after what seemed like a forever of flailing her arms around her bedside table, she finally managed to switch off the alarm.

"Mmm...peace and quiet...", she murmured, almost pleased with herself.

Sleeping in for a few extra minutes probably wouldn't hurt, she decided. It was a weekend after all.

Fiercely hoping that she could still continue the dream she was having, she then snuggled back under the covers, trying to find that perfect comfy spot. She soon realised though, that the post-alarm 'peace & quietness' she had been expecting didn't happen. She scratched her right cheek subconsciously and sighed. She didn't even have to open her eyes to know that last night's weather forecast had been wrong.

Looks like the picnic's not gonna happen after all, she mused as she slowly opened her eyes. When her vision was well-adjusted, she turned to look outside her window for a few seconds. Funnily enough, she didn't feel all that disappointed.

Sade slowly forgot her plan to sleep in as she continued to watch the rain falling outside her room. She got tired of lying down after a while, so she eventually sat up and did a small stretch. She gently gathered her hair into a tiny bunch and used a light blue hairband to tie her hair - the one she only wears at home, because its fluffy bits were already starting to wear out. Despite how it looks, she loved because it was given to her by her pa.

The last thing he gave me, she remembered sadly.

Before she continued to reminisce about her past (it always happens, especially in this weather), she quickly made sure the hairband was tight enough in her hair. She shifted into a chair next to the windowsill, and somehow became mesmerised by the sights and sounds of the rain.  

There's just something magical about it...

Perhaps it's the rhythmic pit-pattering sound, like a continuous flow of water - calm and sure. Or maybe it's the cute, round droplets of water that somehow appear outside her glass windows that gives her that good feeling; stubbornly staying in place, no matter how heavy the rain gets. Or perhaps, she considered as she looked down at the road, it's the puddles on the streets that make her feel this way.

She loved puddles. She even had one she particularly liked, on the street in front of her house. She loved them because no matter how much water splashes out when vehicles drive through them, the rainwater always creeps back in, creating another pool of water. It's like a neverending cycle, which is something she can somewhat relate to. After all, it's always the rain that reminds her of painful memories from the past, and only rain can make her feel better - nothing and no one else.

Ah, stop all this sentimental nonsense, she scolded herself.

Feeling defeated, she breathed into the glass to form an irregular-shaped vapour, and slowly drew a smiley face on it. Just as she finished the face with a smile, she heard someone calling out her name.

"Sade!! SADE!!! Are you awake???", a female voice called out from downstairs.

She sighed. "Yeees!!", she cried out in response.

She walked closer to her door and opened it just enough so that she and her ma didn't have to continue screaming at each other.

Now that she thought about it, her ma rarely shouted like that - especially not this early. Sade began to wonder what all the fuss was about.

"What is it, ma?", she asked, softer this time.

Her mother didn't respond. Sade strained her ear and realised that her ma was talking with someone, but she couldn't hear the other person's voice.

What kind of person would come to another person's house this early?, she wondered.

"Sade, SADE! Come down now hun! Hurry!!!", her ma shouted again from the bottom of the stairs. She sounded almost frantic.

Slightly worried, Sade opened her door cautiously and walked down the hallway almost stealthily. As she reached the top of the staircase, she heard her ma sobbing, and then laughing.

WHAT is going on?..., she pondered, instantly losing all her sleepiness. Without thinking, she ran downstairs as fast as her feet could carry her. At that point, she couldn't tell if her heart was beating like mad, or if it had stopped beating entirely.

As soon as she reached the bottom step, Sade could hear her ma's laughter again... but she was almost scared to look in the dining area, where the sounds were coming from.

She could hear her mom and... a familiar voice. A sweet voice she hadn't heard in years.

Is he... who I think he is?

"If this is a dream", she whispered, "please at least let me see him before my alarm clock goes off...'

After counting to three, Sade cautiously walked into the area her ma and the mysterious person was in. The first sight she saw was her ma leaning on the fridge; her cheeks were wet, but she had a large smile, the kind that Sade hasn't seen in a long time. Sade just realised how much she missed that gorgeous smile of hers.

 A familiar chuckle then caught Sade's attention. It came from the direction of the person her ma had been so enraptured with.

 When Sade saw who the mysterious person was, her jaw dropped.

  "P- pa?...", she stuttered, still unsure if he was real.

 Both her parents turned around to see their daughter gaping at them like a goldfish, too stunned to do or say anything else.

 Her pa grinned when he saw how stiff she became, and staggered towards her. She looked at him up and down, and gasped when she saw a prosthetic leg under his left knee. She didn't know how to react. She was about to help, but he motioned at her that he didn't need any.

 Sade bit her bottom lip hard, watching her pa continue struggling towards her. Unsteadily, but surely. Seeing him in such a way unconciously made her eyes water - not out of sympathy, but out of relief. She quickly registered the way her father looked at that moment - his wet hair (he hated umbrellas so he probably walked here without one), the towel around his neck (which was longer on one side, as he always wears it), his face (which had more scars than she remembered).

 Yes, it's most certainly him: this is her pa who she hasn't seen in years.

 Lost in her thoughts, she didn't realise that he was already in front of her until he poked her left cheek, startling her. He gave her his smile that she thought she' would never see again, and extended his arms around her, signalling that she should be prepared for his signature bearhug.

 Without a second's notice, she hugged him tight, hoping she wouldn't wake up to find it had all been a dream. It was like a hungry tiger lunging at a prey it had been starving for -- fierce and desperate.

 After a while, Sade's ma teased that she should probably let go so that her poor pa can sit down.

 "His prosthetics aren't the expensive type, so they're not comfortable to stand in for too long", her ma joked.

 After a few more seconds, Sade reluctantly let go of her pa and pulled him to a chair. She looked straight at him - not knowing whether to smile, cry or laugh. Her pa just laughed and looked at his wife, half-amused, half-concerned.

 "Pa, why are you here?", Sade finally blurted out.

 He blinked for a moment, and then his lips broke into a smile. "I assume you know about my fall four years ago?", he asked his daughter carefully.

 She nodded, paying full attention.

 He adjusted his sitting position and continued. "It was raining heavily that day, so it wasn't surprising that I fell down that cliff. None of my team members found me because it was too dark and dangerous... truthfully even I still think it's a miracle I survived", he stopped, as if to recollect his thoughts. "I was found by the locals a few days after, but I was in a coma that lasted a few months. I didn't have any ID on me, so nobody knew who I was or where I was from, or how I even got there. Most importantly, they didn't know who to call to inform about my situation."

 Sade's ma poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him. He winked at her, causing her to giggle. Sade wasn't sure if it was sweet or gross - probably both - but she continued watching him.

 "Anyway, when I finally came to, I returned home to find that you two had already moved. It must've been hard for you two these past few years...", he stopped to look at his wife with a sad expression, and she smiled as she looked at the floor. "In any case, I've been around the country since then, but I couldn't trace you. Nobody seemed to know where you were".

 He gulped down half of his mug's content before he continued. "I almost gave up, to be honest. I only came here by accident, because one of the guys from my last mission lives around the corner. I was driving to his place a couple of days ago when I saw someone that looked like my Sade lying on the grass on the front yard -- a bigger version of her, of course", he rummaged through her hair. In the past she would've complained, but now she simply grinned.

 "I was dead sure that it was my Sade that I saw, so Dan and I checked with some of the other neighbors to confirm if it was really you and Anna who live here... and here I am". He downed the rest of his coffee, marking the end of his story.

 "But you could've waited till later in the day to give me the shock of my life", his wife muttered. She buried her smile with her mug, hoping he didn't see it.

 He chuckled. "But I wanted to be the first thing you see today, dear." Anna blushed at this, as he got up and slowly walked towards her. He kissed her on the forehead, and brushed his fingers across her cheeks.

 "Happy birthday to me", he said softly. His wife cocked an eyebrow.

 "But... it's not your birthday", she said, surprised.

 "Hey, it's the day I came back from the dead, remember?", he cheekily replied. Before she could respond, he felt a tug on his shirt. He turned to see a pair of pleading eyes looking at him.

 "Pa, can we go out for a second?", she quietly asked.

 "Out?", he looked out into the rain. "But it's raining, dear".

 "I know. Just for a second... please?"

Her ma looked at her strangely, but her pa finally nodded. Immediately Sade dragged him towards their garden, without even bothering to take off their house slippers. Standing in the rain with their feet dirty from the mud, she closed her eyes, faced skywards, and finally broke into a huge smile - her first real one since she had heard that her pa died.

The perplexed man and the thoughtful daughter continued to stand there as the rain continued to pour, like it would never stop. A moment later, a car drove past her house, and a child in the passenger seat stared at Sade and her pa with bulging eyes - probably curious about why they're standing in the rain.

Sade didn't care.

Eventually the car drove through her favourite puddle, splashing out almost all the water it had in it. She quietly watched as the rain filled it again. When the puddle started to overflow, she looked at her pa and squeezed him tight.

 "I think we should have a picnic to celebrate your birthday, pa", she finally said, out of the blue. Her confused pa just laughed and nodded.

Anna quietly watched them from their doorstep. She held back her tears as her husband wrapped his arm around their daughter, and walked back towards their house.

Right before she closed the door, Sade gazed at the puddle on the street, still over-brimming with rainwater.

"Thank you for filling me up again, rain", she said softly, and slowly pushed the door close.

  - The End -

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A/N: This is a project thought up by my junior in college, Daniel Azere (I call him Ben tho, I can't fully remember why). Out of boredom, I wrote on my FB status that I missed writing, and he suggested we write something, anything, under the theme of 'rain'. I started writing this that very night, but it took me several days to edit, redraft and finally publish this.

Like Ben, I find rainy weather rather romantic. However I gotta admit that I might have been influenced to think this because in Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon (one of my favouritest mangas of all time), weather was often used to show a change in mood/atmosphere, and in the series, dewy/rainy weather tends to make the characters think of the past (and about their love lives, amusingly). So... yeah. Heheh.

Btw, do you like the name Sade (pron. Saa-deh)? It means 'rain' in Finnish. I really like it :)

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this little story. Have a great day, folks! :)

Time taken: roughly 3 days.