That's a statement of fact, don't read too much into it.
But this much I know is true-- the rain here is terribly unlike the rain in Singapore. The latter is... softer; falls like a friend. When it storms there is passion and exuberance and catharsis and I could sit all day at a window staring out at it. I would even happily splash through it.
Here the rain falls like icy sarcasm. Each drop is chillingly biting. And there are no storms, no deluges, just a steady pitter-patter of stonewalling dislike.
I have to wonder if it was this way all along; and, blinded by the sun, I just never noticed back then.
arghhh okay swamped by work. swamped, swamped, SWAMPED. This is ridiculous I have to study MORE on exchange than back home.
bedtime reading.what makes her just everything I can never be
what makes her your every dream and fantasy?
because i can remember when it was me-- bedtime music.