THE PLUVIOPHILE(Y) ME!

Dating back to five months ago, it was a rainy afternoon in February the 25th.
As I was sitting by the large wooden window, i was staring at the drops of drizzling rain.

Beautiful and peaceful.

Again, the way that my dearest author inspires me is awesome!

I mean, hey, we are more or less the same ages, but how can't I just be as inspirative as she is? I know, I know; ages don't have anything to do with great deeds and creativity which ones do. Sure, she and I are completely two different people, and each other is destined to have different kind of ... intelligence. Errr, now I feel hurt by merely the quality that I lack of. It may be because I am not smart enough to open up my mind, get the great things around me, and share them in such an outstanding way that I can simply inspire other people - just like she always does - so that I seem to play another role as the one who is badly inspired - by so many great figures in the world; such as Sitta Karina Rachmidiharja, those people in my Google+ circle, social medias, musicians, actors, family and people in my nearest side of life; as well as by a great number of simple things around me; such as the sun, cats, paper flower, cute yellowish dry leafs, and even drops of rain. I mean, though I never am an inspirator, at least I do my job very well as an inspired one. Okay, I sound desperate just now -_-

To be able to share is a gift, I guess, and much about opportunities and timing; just how those people come out with the right stuff and at the right time - grabbing the chances tightly - without hesitance, just carpe diem. I imagine the power and courage, plus extra efforts, used in the process of inspiring others. Some may do it easily, some may do it with the hardest works; and I completely envy them. But then, whom is inspired if all inspire all? Well, just let me do the me-being-inspired thingy.

Talking about the very piece which inspires me, by my very inspirative author, is the way I have always loved ... rain. Yeah, the very thing I always describe as something so beautiful. Something like a tiny particle which is likely a cool-tend-to-cold thingy, sparkling when lights touch it, and scattering gently when falling and bouncing on a surface. I like that.

Apart from the fact that when it rains is when the angel of Mikail shares blessings with all creatures in the whole world, I do love rain in a simple way. Staring at the drops of rain from the other side of a big glass window is something of an ecstatic thing. It distracts me for a while from my insanity into being more sober.

While also loving sunshine and that summer feeling, there is something about rain which is helplessly romantic. Something dear to my very heart. Something inspiring.

“Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet.” 

― Roger Miller

picture: private document