Many years have passed by since I used to pour my heart out in writing. A lot have changed while just as many stayed the same. For all these time I didn't write, I lost track of myself. I changed, I know that much, but what changed, what not, and whatever happened that changed them, I can't remember.
However, I can say with absolute certainty that this part of me didn't change: I love cloudy day, and I love rain.
Just a few days ago I realized this. I was commuting to work on this beautiful cloudy day. Everything looked beautiful. The wild green plants between the railways with bugs and butterflies flying around them, abandoned woods left by some unfinished railway projects, the atmosphere, the wind, the air. All these things remind me of the very thing I used to love and have forgotten these past few years.
To be completely honest, all these years I've been ignoring all these little special things I used to love. I was busy worrying about a lot of things; organization I was supposed to lead, tests I was expected to excel at, university I was expected to go to, classes, home works, more tests and exams, fitting in with other people, working out, trying to look good. Then I realized how I used to care less about those stuffs. What used to matter is whether it was cloudy today, or that it was raining softly in the morning. I used to love walking and running in the rain on my way back home. But lately, if it was pouring on my way home, I would worry about my clothes, about looking silly and ugly.
Having realized this, though, my love for rain and cloudy day came rushing back, filling my heart with this small and silly happiness. There I was, just tonight, soaking wet after riding motorcycle from work to the station through the rain and still smiling like crazy. Also there I was, morning few days ago, choosing not to drive to work although it was pouring outside. All of that because of that warm feeling in my chest, that feels so beautiful it brings tears to my eyes. You can say I'm being too sentimental about this but hey that's me. I love being gloomy and sentimental like that. That makes me happy. I know it sounds like I'm contradicting myself, being gloomy and happy at the same time. Well, actually I'm not. It's the gloomy atmosphere that moves me, not being sad. It's like those scenes in a movie where the protagonist goes through something sad and he/she walks alone on a wet pavement at night, or stare outside the window at the pouring rain while those beautiful ballad song is playing on the background. Those moments, their atmosphere, is amazingly beautiful.
Well, that's that. I just poured my heart out. You know me better now, and even I know me better now. So that's probably the beauty of writing and reading. It makes you understand whatever it is more.