Stormy Weather

It was like God was crying the tears that i’ve been holding in for 10 years, when I went so numb to everything that I disguised my grief, sadness and anger with stoic indifference. Only over the last two years I have been coming to terms with the fact that I actually feel things. The actual sensation of feeling lies in the near future, I fear. Nevertheless, I felt this: rain was pouring as if millions of high pressure hoses were pointed at me and my bike. My 70s style cherry-colored glasses were clouded with coin-sized drops and condensation. Halos and geometric configurations formed around the tragic red traffic lights and flashing headlights. (This reminded me of my acid trip last August, when those same shapes flickered through the sky in greens and purples and oranges. That summer night, the black sky seemed so clear it looked like it was raining. However, there was no God, the rain that fell on me only in my imagination felt like fairydust landing softly on my shoulders.) Pools formed under my tires and water splashed onto my black wide-legged jeans, which were already drenched and now felt like wooden planks on my cold legs. I got home, slid off my glasses and took a shower. More water. Agreeable, soft, warm water, but no more halos.