The old man is snoring...
Okay, so the old man's not snoring. But it is raining, pouring, drenching the beautiful day that could have been. There were all of these little birdies hopping around on the ground outside my window and then the rain became too heavy for them to bear the beating and they all fled into the bushes and trees for shelter. I started singing that song "Little Birdy" by Ween. "Little birdy make me laugh dude...Little birdy make me cry, I don't know why...I don't know why..."
I saw the little birdy sing
he sang with glee and everything
he sang for spring and he sang for me
and everything was so happy
i don't know why
i want to fly
try to sigh
make me fly
get me high
then the little birdy starts to cry
so happy.
When I lived in California, I used to revel in days like this. Gray, melancholy days that fed my pubescent desire to wallow in contemplative angst. I remember being in high school one day and looking out the window at the dark clouds rolling in from the west and feeling all consumed with this fun, electrical feeling. The classroom felt so far away (not that I was paying any attention anyway) and all I could think about was that galloping-horses-in-the-sky feeling I had, thundering hooves about to emerge from the black clouds...
When the thunder came, and the lightning and then rain, it was like the sky busted and felt like the downpour would wash away all the smog and dirt that was being kicked up all over the city. And it felt like an opportunity to glower and broad about things that made me sad at the time. It was a good time to go home and flop onto my bed and stare out at the rain while Pink Floyd, The Wall blasted from my little tape player, to write in my diary and dream about the future and be glum about the present...
Well here I am. In the future. If you would have told me that day that this is where I would be in ten years, I would have prayed that you were right. So here I sit, still in the slip I wore to bed last night, stomach full from breakfast, the only sounds are of the rain outside and the dim chaos of sports television in the living room. And all I want is for the sun to come out. Because it's June and it's time to have picnics and put on fun spring clothes and tilt your head back to feel the sun and not worry about getting wet or being stuck inside with nothing to do...except...dare I say it? To clean the house. *Dreck*
Rain, rain, go away, come back another day...I want to go out...out to play.
Posted by Maria at June 7, 2003 12:45 PM | TrackBack