I’m sick of the sound of the California rain, the pitter patter of the drizzle, the daily downpour since December. Is it over?
Once upon a time, the rain was nice. We would close shop and stay in bed and drenched with wetness would mean wicked kisses, womanly warmth, wild with pleasure, the boiling of the water for your camomile tea, and the steamy udon soup from Tanaka’s take-out, which we would eat in the sturdy wood bowls on the flannel sheets, the thick heavy noodles bursting with flavor.
Now it’s just an endless rain, rain go away, raindrops keep fallin’ on my head, like bitter tears. And when it pours, man it pours.
Sent from my iPhone
I really enjoyed this...
thinking of you, neil. what you need is an umbrella.
ugh. ugh. ugh.
ARK?
Maybe go back to NYC? Snow is prettier to look at, I think. Even though it means colder temps.
right now in the northeast, the streets are filled with the screams of frustration of parents with their cabin-fever riddled children
Rain is the Californian’s lament.
Even the sky is crying; opening floodgates with great shuddering sobs, weeping silently with such force that even the ground cannot contain it.
You just made me nostalgic for first rain storms. And sex. Nostalgic for sex. That’s saying a lot.
you’re a good human, Neil.
a nice man, even.
and why do i suddenly not remember how that grammar-school rainy-day song goes? i want to remember because i’m pretty sure it’s about you.
he went to bed, and covered his head, and wouldn’t get up in the morning.
there. nevermind. it’s not about you after all. it’s about me.
see, i wish it was raining & i had udon. but no. snow. and windchill.
but you and i are both in a strange dark season of hospitals and the smells of pee and cleaning fluids, i think. and in the end, those dark seasons are best set to rain & snow, anyway. chin up.
You wrote all that on your iPhone??
Wee song for you. Just heard him on Fresh Air today.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4hVqORXrWOw
We weren’t allowed to sing Deb’s grade school song because the old man who went to bed was OBVIOUSLY God, and we couldn’t blaspheme him like that, implying he wasn’t paying attention to his creation when everyone knows very well that it’s rain that makes the flowers grow.
Are you a god, Neil, is what I think I’m asking.
That does look miserable. There was lots o’ rain in London as well, but it seemed to be fleeting. So shall I call it, kind rain?
you are going through it, that’s what i’m thinking…. damn stupid rain. i’m thinking that too. and i want some udon noodles…
OH Yeah! Well I can text a smiley face emoticon from my phone.
OK so now I just started reading through some of these… I am stunned with the beauty if these words and the way you can make me feel pain. Wow. WTF?