Ever since my body clock had adjusted itself a month ago just for the good of my collegiate education (I get sleepy at around 10, I wake up at 5AM. I know it's the weirdest thing ever to happen to me, alright. Don't rub the shit in.), I've been waking up to the sound of birds chirping like hell and the sun's rays glistening on my heat-hating face. Well everybody knows that I'm no morning person, and hearing friggin birds scream like Steven Tyler is the last thing I want to experience. Goodness, it's like being raped by nature early in the morning.
I woke up a while ago with the blurry sight of the branches of our neighbor's tree dancing to some howling tune I once heard back when Typhoon Milenyo is still the deadliest shiznit to hit the country ever. While still lying on my back, my eyes tried to peer through the irritating yellow curtains mom ordered to be put up a few days ago. I can see big droplets of rain hitting the window pane so hard I can definitely hear it. There's no sun in sight for the clouds are relatively unhappy with its dirty white shade. And no singing birds! No siree.
My eyes formed into big circles, just like what I would do when I'm in deep fascination about something. I can't really blame my eyes, you see. My favorite type of morning just woke my guts up, and it's really really good.
My mouth quickly blurted out some orders to my snobby sister to draw the curtains to the sides so I could see the beauty hidden beneath the gloomy atmosphere outside. Right after drawing the curtains, I told her to slide the window panes open so we could breathe in the glumness only typhoons (and real mad typhoons, for that matter) can bring. And for sure, I became more jubilant as the cool wind started to enter our room, and tiny needles of rain smashed into droplets right on our floor. My God, it's like freaking Christmas. And that's only the effect of the typhoon, as you can see. I'll probably burn the house down because of happiness when our whole archipelago will shift itself to the far west where there's a hell lot of snow. I can't wait.
See, I don't even know why I love stormy weathers so much. It doesn't really date back during my childhood years, because my overly-strict grandparents would never allow me to go outside and soak my whole body in the rain. I would always peer through our window, looking at my friends who are obviously enjoying their outdoor shower. One time, when my grandparents weren't around and it was raining like hell, I quickly went out and joined the other kids. I enjoyed it so much that I didn't see my grandparents' car quickly approaching. My ass suffered so much after that.
Everytime my aunt would massage my body, she would complain about how this coldness present in my sanctuary wouldn't just go away no matter how many times she would rub me off. She told me once that I'm probably a snake in my previous life, because you know...snakes are cold-blooded and stuff. I used to think that I was a rat before, but that's a different story.
Rain, rain, don't ever go away.
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