just a recommendation: listen to Message Personnel by Francoise Hardy while reading
There’s something erotic about rain in July. It’s been raining all day. It’s never enough… All along I’ve had a fear. From the moment it begun… What if it never rains again? What if the land dries from the cruelty of the sun?
I wanted to go to bed. I have a lot to do tomorrow but there’s no chance for that. I tried. The sound of it keeps me awake. I can’t keep myself inside. Maybe if I pulled my bed in the balcony, it would work but… it’s heavy and I won’t miss this smell for a few hours of sleep.
For the first fifteen years of my life I hated the rain. What wonderful moments I missed not enjoying this… If you are a person who can appreciate things that provide you with good company such as music, a pen, pillows and chamomile, then you surely know the value of the smell and the sound of rain. But in the summer that value is instantly doubled. We are, after all humans, the greediest of animals. We need to miss something in order to appreciate it. And when it arrives just for a night and you have no idea how long it will be until it comes back, you don’t risk missing a minute of it. You stay awake to take it all in.
Maybe if we saw everything like this storm, we would be happy. Some great philosopher back in the times of Renaissance, whose name I can’t recall, said that happiness is only a matter of imagination. He claimed that we can only create it for ourselves. Is this it? How close can a sudden July storm be to answering the great mysteries of life? I guess very close or… not at all. It depends…
I’m sorry if that was all boring but I had a shitty day and great expectations – as I always do – but none of them met reality – as they always do – and I was sad and a unbearably lazy but still after all… it rained.
How could I not shout it to the world? Have a magical night
by Elena Ktenopoulou