What’s so good about rain?

Almost every time I write, I have a background rain noise to keep me going. I’ve just started to ask myself though; what is so good about rain? I don’t know if it’s just me, but when it starts raining, my mood gets a smidgen better. I don’t know if it’s a relaxing sound, or if I like the way it looks, but there’s just something so gosh darn good about it.

I remember reading a post one day that said rain lovers were called ‘pluviophiles.’ They’re lover of rains and find a peace of mind in it. I wondered if that was because when it rains, you aren’t surrounded by silence anymore.

For me personally, I hate the quiet. I can’t stand it when it’s dead silent. Part of the reason why I hum and sing whenever I’m doing something. I don’t know what’s so bad about silence, but it gets me uncomfortable. Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t like it when things are too loud either–like clubs or what not. But rain takes away that silence, and it feels nice to listen to the rhythmic sound.

At first, I thought I liked rain because there are too many movies where the girl gets kissed by her prince charming out in the pouring rain. I know you’re thinking of the Notebook. But yeah, my fantasy was my soulmate confessing his deep love for me out in the thundering storms. But then I realized, I only liked that idea because it wouldn’t be awkwardly silent after we’d confess. I don’t know if it’s just me, but I’d get really awkward if we had just kissed and then walked back in silence. Like in the movies, it’s all YAY! and cue the romantic music, but that doesn’t happen in real life.

Anyways, that’s another over analyzation for another time. Oh, and also the color of the skies during a storm. My aesthetic is when the skies turn into that grayish dark color, and it’s like all of sudden everything becomes so much more softer. I don’t really know how to explain it, and I’m not even sure if anyone really can, but there’s just something about the way the streets look when it’s just rained. And yes, I’ve just quoted a Taylor Swift song. But really, it amazes me how much rain can make my day better.

I guess we’ll never really know why pluviophiles exist, and why rain is just so awesome, but this was my little thought on it, so hope you enjoyed, and the next time it rains, ask yourself why it’s better. Anyways, hope you’re having a great day!

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Tumblr.

So half of my friends have a Tumblr, and the other half find it completely useless. I guess I’m here today to write what I think about my tumblr. I know a lot of people don’t really know what it’s for–it’s not as easy to get as Instagram.

Tumblr is more of like a secret side of my soul for me just because the things on there make me feel a way that I can’t express in words. I don’t know if it’s just me, but there’s something so interesting about certain photos and gifs that pop up. And I know that’s supposed to be what tumblr is about, but still, I feel like my blog tells everything that I can’t physically say out loud.

And also the other thing is that tumblr is really controversial. Everyone knows it as this site where all hell breaks lose. And while that may be true, other things other than that happen. Personally, I know some friends on there that use their blog to kind of cope with their feelings and different mental situations. (Eating disorders, depression, etc.) And actually, I related to some of them at a certain dark part of my life, but that’s another story for another time. Anyways, I realized that maybe people use their blogs to reveal how they really feel because if they said it out loud to people, they’d get called ‘crazy’ or ‘different.’ But I think that’s what Tumblr is all about. I don’t know if the creator of Tumblr wanted it to be like that, but it is.

If someone asked me why they should join tumblr, I don’t think I’d really know what to say. After stuttering and rambling for like an hour, I’d probably say that it’s just a good time-killer. That’s not so much of a truth as it is a lie.

Obviously it’s a time-killer, but I don’t know, there’s just something different about the site. It’s like photographs taken during a bad time. Everything is so messed up, but you can’t help but stare on and laugh at how it is. That probably sounds bad, but I guess it makes sense to me.

I’ve obviously overanalyzed what Tumblr is, but that’s the point. My love for analyzing and tumblr have made this ridiculous blog, and I wouldn’t even be posting it if I wasn’t completely bored. So yeah. Even though no one’s reading, I hope you have a great day–and make a tumblr account 🙂

The Breakfast Club.

So today I found myself watching a movie called The Breakfast Club. When I heard it was like those ‘coming of age’ movies, I couldn’t resist. After watching ‘Stuck in Love’ and ‘Perks of being a wallflower’, I knew I’d enjoy it. I was right.

After I watched it, I looked up the movie analysis–like I always do in every ‘coming of age’ movie. I’m pretty sure I had my own analysis, but it’s nice to see other people’s opinions and venture out in different view points. Something I found quite true was that the world of teenagers was something that was looked down upon. I’m pretty sure that’s the message they were trying to subtly nudge in the movie. That stereotypical teenagers aren’t so stereotypical after all, and they go through some things.

A character that grabbed my interest from the beginning was John Bender. I know I’m not the only one. I felt the most sorrow for him, though that’s probably what the directors wanted you to feel. It’s like his character is in every movie nowadays–bad boy that every girl wants. I don’t know what is so appealing to girls when a boy is emotionally distraught but aggressive and different. I guess we like fragile danger. Which makes me wonder why that is, but that’s  thought for another time.

I absolutely disliked the girl–Claire Standish. I felt like she was those girls that every high school had, and I hated those girls. To be honest, I was a bit disappointed when she got together with John. I felt like he deserved better. I think the reason why I hated her so much is because she didn’t just accept the fact that she had it better than a lot of people. Instead, she just played the annoying damsel in distress act, and dramatized her life. I mean, I know it’s wrong for me to say that considering divorce is a pretty big deal, but still. I felt like she lacked the most character pros.

And then there was the Basket case. From the start I liked her. I think somehow I’ve always wanted to be that person–an outsider. Though probably be not as weird as she was, but still. I admired her a lot because one) she was pretty and 2) she was honest about wanting attention. I myself am a HUGE attention seeker, but I don’t really have he courage to be upfront about it. I’m also an introvert, and I wish I had the strength to show it outside like she did.

I also liked her because I thought I was similar. The fact that she was there because she was bored is totally something I would pull. She was kind–and I know a lot of people might disagree, but to me she was really nice. She defended everyone in different times when you think about it, and I think people like that are really admirable. People who can still be kind to the very people who throw bullets at them.

I don’t regret watching this movie because I think it gave me a new outlook to life. I feel like the movie helped me realize that teenagers out there have so many problems, but most can be cured just by talking. It amazes me how people forget that communication is the key to recovery. Though nowadays it’s a little more complicated due to better technology. If the breakfast club was made today, it’d be a movie about 5 kids on their phones for eight hours scrolling through social media. Part of me wishes that we wouldn’t have any technology, so we could be the people we once were.

Then again, without technology I couldn’t have watched the movie. Everything comes with a price I guess.

It’s Snowing.

I’m not sure what it is about snow that makes your day a lot better. Maybe it’s the light sky, or the delicate flurries that fall gracefully outside your bedroom window. Maybe it’s the thin white blanket that covers the streets and cars. Maybe it’s the fact that it makes the world just two colors. White and black.

I think everything is much simpler that way–when the world is just two colors. Like a black and white picture. The ones your family keeps in an old, dusty photo album that you swore you’d thrown out a few years ago. But black and white is simple, and I think simple does the world good.

Simple means there’s no labels. No labels on people. Labels are meant for objects and items that need a name for you to remember. People shouldn’t need them, should they? People aren’t objects–well, weren’t objects. Nowadays a lot of people are quite okay with being objects. Or maybe they’re okay with being treated like one. It’s hard to tell the difference–though I’m sure there is none.

I think it’s emptiness that causes people to be an object. I think that some people just have so much emptiness inside themselves that it’s no longer surprising they don’t think themselves a person. I mean, it makes sense, but it’s sad. What kind of world has that much influence to change you into a human, to a nothingness. To an empty void, just waiting for someone to pick them up and use them until they shrivel up, and die.

I never liked the thought of death. And I know I’m not the only one. No one wants to think about the way they die, or what would happen. It’s common sense, but I’d like to figure out why some people are eager for it. More than often, it’s usually teenagers who don’t fear death. And I can’t figure out if it’s out of pure arrogance, or emptiness–once again. I think a lot of people are empty, that’s why a lot of people are objects. Objects don’t fear death, why should they. They are a nothing. But where objects always objects? Yes. But people objects weren’t always objects. It’s confusing, I know. Though somehow to me, it makes perfect sense.

I find it amazing that someone can be so empty, that they unknowingly invite death into their homes. It’s like their mind has somehow left their bodies, until they’re just that–bodies. And maybe it’s not so much of a bad thing, to be just a body. Maybe if we were just a body, we could escape the sheer torture and pain that we witness ever single day. And for what? Just more heartbreak, and more unfairness that eats our heart to the core. If our heart even does have one. That would make sense though, wouldn’t it? Just how you eat an apple to the core. Pain is you, eating at the heart. It’s a gross thought obviously, but everything’s gross when it’s interpreted.

And that’s another thing. How many things in this world are uninterpreted? How little do we know about so many things that we keep finding different things to decode? Are we that shallow, that small, to not realize we are missing so many things. Are we that arrogant to decide that we can, and will, figure out everything when it’s so clear that we won’t?

Which is why I don’t understand non-religious people. How can you live your life day after day without something to believe in? Something to make yourself devoted to, a purpose in your sorry lives? When you’re old and grey, it won’t matter how many boys you’ve kissed, or how many clothes sit in your closet. What’ll matter is what you did with your life. And life leaves you in a second. If there’s one thing you should know, is that time is your worst enemy. Forget the brats at school, and the bullies. Time will tear you down, but you’ll already be torn when you realize that.

I’m never going to get 5 am back today. I’m never going to get 2 pm back. It’s gone. Forever. There’s no going back, only forward. But how can you move forward if you don’t know what you’re looking at? No one can drive in a storm without clearing their windshields. Of course, there are those idiots that think they actually have a chance without clearing their windshields. I hope you know I’m not just talking about a car anymore.

I could go on and on, about how time is the thing that makes our lives meaningless, and how things are so unknown to mankind that we might as well just give up and accept our fate. How death is never an enemy, but a friend. How empty people can be, and how their souls are a pit of blackness. How empty people can turn into objects. Or make them treated like one. And all objects do need labels, a name to recall for their owner. But how humans have labels as well. That person’s gay. Oh that person’s Jewish. How the world’s favorite hobby is turning their own species into something else, even if they don’t know their doing it. How they’re turning people into items every day. How nothing is simple anymore. But it could be, if only the world were black and white. If only the world was covered with a thin white blanket, and a starry night sky.

I finally know why snow makes our day better. It makes us think in ways we never have.