baggage's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Unfortunately, it's always rainin' somewhere I feel like Garbo in this Late Night Grande Hotel. -Nanci Griffith I melt when it rains. It fills me with this odd romantic-longing. I want to disappear into my tiny, hardwood-floored castle-hide in the cracks in the plaster or maybe disguise myself as a dust bunny lounging in the corner underneath the heart-shaped table. Nobody would see me, and I could sit there by myself until the basic human need for company forced me out of hiding. I'm normally a sociable person. Good companions have littered my life as far as I can remember, and I've grown addicted to the company, the laughs and the good times that fine peeps bring to the party. But, sometimes, the only companionship I want is my own. I wake up and, somehow between nighttime and morning, my mind has decided to rebel at the thought of other people's opinions, voices, thoughts and needs. Selfish comes close to describing it. Possibly, misanthropic. Maybe, asshole. But, those are the obvious targets in the English dictionary. What I feel is not a dislike of other people (as those three words may imply)-but more of an immediate need to regroup emotionally-to take a piece of my day that is normally reserved for others and reclaim it as mine. And, sometimes, the feeling is triggered by rain. Maybe I've watched too many black and white classic movies-filmed back before the imagery of rain-soaked streets and flashing neon signs became Hollywood-created cliches. Maybe, I've loved too many sad songs that uses rain alongside minor chords to set a lonely scene. I'm not really sure. But, I have work to do and I can't concentrate. It's raining outside my office window, and all I want to do is hide. 19:18:46 - 2001-01-26 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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