Featured Image by Kazu Muchuukai
Today, it’s raining. Every drop that falls from the sky is a reminder of the doom that awaits us this Saturday. The clouds drench my soul, weighing me down in tears of despair and surrender, and yet… It fills me with denial.
Why do I smile now, when destruction is all I see? And why do I laugh, when everything I’ve worked so hard for falls apart?
The way responsibility has bent my mind is inexplicable. I do not ignore it, but I do not help it. Slowly, I move forward, ready to receive the final blow. I take another step with a smirk, knowing that the universe will be for me or against me. Its decision will make sense no matter what. Have I given up? Perhaps I have.
The dread is all too familiar. Suffering is a joke. There’s nothing new, except that maybe it’s time for something new. Robotics is no longer my absolute pride, or my sole sense of worth that drives me to exist. I’ve found an infinite passion that can be poured anywhere—an infinite amount of things that can be achieved with my life. I’ve done my best.
Rain is meant to come after disaster. But today, I see it as a premonition of next week’s resurrection. I welcome the early rain with open arms, breathing and drowning, because it will at last fall apart. After a season of relentless wildfire, I let the cold droplets soak my clothes with a giddy expression—no more rage, no more hate, no more crying. All pain is purged by its waters.
I’m not going to do any homework. Death takes its toll for three days. Tonight, I relish in my despair, resting before I give it all to conclude this chapter. It is mindless desperation, I have recognized. There is fulfillment, and hope, I have learned. Dreary skies can be interpreted two ways: it is the weather of unfathomable sadness, or the precipitation of reconciliation.
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