Meghan: Rain, rain, don't go away

The sky is falling
The angels are crying
The girl is laughing, blow wind blow.
My hair is in ringlets from the humidity and it clings to my forehead in a sweat left over from the gym. Later I’ll have to dunk my head in a bucket of water to calm it down, but now I just let it form its gold whirlwind. The world smells like wet cement and drenched earth, and all of the colors seem too intense, too bright. I’m drinking with my eyes while butter yellow leaves twirl down with the buckets of rain. Is it overwhelming? Oh, yes. But would I drown in it? Never, not in this richness. If I meet the eyes of other people while I’m wandering I probably look like some half-crazy fiend spinning through the rain. But they don’t matter, not when I’m searching, looking at everything. I don’t know what I’m looking for and I don’t care, I’m just looking; experiencing. And I love it.

-Meghan