It rained today

It rained today. And, God, I was so thankful for that. So happy. God. It rained.

And it is not like I haven’t seen rain or water for a decade and I’ve already passed the evanescence of my body because of scorching  heat and I am some sort of desert dust now and it is not like I was thirsty to death and it is not like I am some stupid sort of mermaid that had traded her gorgeous teal hair and golden eyes for two stupid legs and desperately needed water pouring out of the sky because she’d realized the human prince is a mess and so is the human world and she wanted to take it all back. No.

I just prayed for rain. Because sun , so much sun, so much heat, so many burnt people and so much reddened skin and so many sunglasses and so much rush and such long days and so many things that smell like summer and pity -they all exhaust me. And then it rained. Heavily , like east and west had decided to break up right in the middle of the sky and take all the substance with them in opposite directions. Like the sky was colliding inside itself. Beautiful.

And the people, the stupid people, they were running, their bags clumsily put on their heads, as if they were afraid that their painted or white or braided hair will grow along with the rain, to the earth, in long and heavy and guilty strands that will wrap around them and drag them down, down, down. And I can’t understand people’s fear of rain, of water, of wind, of nature. I don’t understand what in this world could be wrong with having your hair messed by the wind or having a leaf caught in your braid or getting mud on your feet or green grass on your legs. I can’t comprehend how we lock ourselves in our oh-so-loved fortified castles of civilization and forget how to let the toxic air we exhale out of our fortresses and into the earth and into the braided bones of earth and rock.

And I don’t say this as a human being living in the woods in the company of deer and books (even if I wish I had). I say as a freaking human being.

And a pluviophile. Dendrophile. Nyctophile. Astrophile. Thalassophile. Photophile. Chionophile. (This is a whole enumeration of beautiful words and they might sound as weird as I feel overdosing this post with Latin related syllables.)

I like sunrises and bad weather and cold and light I love light sometimes when it is just as cold as me and not insistent and not wanting to read the whole of who I am.

But I hate sun. And warmth and heat and it rained today. It rained on me today and in the streets of the little town I was in, talking to my teacher about my essays and homework and how ink spills. And then, it was raining on the trees that are stationed on the ridiculously hollow avenue I waited my bus on. There was heat still lingering in the bus, tho, heat and dust, but there were few people and the windows were cold and it was raining.

I’m sure you don’t know what actually struck me and left me sad and in awe and made me write this. I was in my seat,in the bus, the one near the cold window, “The Master and Margarita” by Mikhail Bulgakov open on my knees and the bus was passing some fields on the way home because the village I live in is really nice and surrounded by fields and fields and a quite nice river and woods, and on that earth I could see beyond my cold window were sunflowers. Thousands of sunflowers and all were so disorientated and so lost because the sun had been swallowed up by my rain and I didn’t have the time to feel guilty for them – all of them were bathing in mesmerizing air with their petals facing the earth but I swear , for a second, I swear they seemed kids, kids morning a time not spent but wasted kids woken up after a deep and silent sleep kids of small light and fires. And I swear it was the saddest yellow thing I’ve ever seen.

Hello world

My name is Ana. And it is really difficult to write this post for the same cliche reason people have been evoking for ages when trying to say something coherent about themselves – I don’t know and I lack the ability to try to find out something pretty interesting or not-weird-at-all or in any way memorable to say about myself. For that particular reason, I’m just going to go with the basics, so that you can form a mental picture of who I am and this moment of “Ana-say-hi-to-the-internet” goes on smoothly. No lists, though. Even I find listing things about yourself a little bit over the top. Whatever, you may have different opinions. So.

I was born on the 13th day of one particularly hot summer. I have a middle name, but is just as common as my first one. I have a great family, but I mostly lack friends ( that might be a thing that happens because I apparently am too idealistic for this “big bad world”. Meh.)and, for that matter, any type of huge need for human affection that you could expect from a person my age in a society like ours. I love learning – and by that I don’t mean that I swallow whole physics textbooks as a hobby or in any way approve to the way our educational system is shaped. By learning I mean acquiring information about the universe around by any means and with any risks – I mean art and a deep admiration for nature or having late philosophical talks with somebody that gets the way you think. My life is pretty much gravitating around school, for I really used to enjoy it whole back in my middle school years, when some stuff seemed way more manageable. I’m in high school now and everything got pretty much way more chaotic than I’d thought. The fact is, despite having a decent middle school life ( especially when it came to interacting with other human beings , speaking up in class and all that fun stuff ) I used to dream of high school the same way other girls dream of the ideal guy. Wholeheartedly. Sure it would turn out to be the absolute best time of my life. And once again, by the best time of my life I certainly don’t mean parties or underage drinking or a whole new world of romantic encounters – nope,not at all. I dreamed of a new bunch of people that would actually stop being prototypes, some people in which I could see potential friends, some people that shared some of my too crazy dreams of being able to make my life count in some sort of way. Not that all my classmates are bad, some are kind of friendly actually, some are funny, some are people that feel comfortable sharing some of their time with me , talking about mostly useless stuff or fangirling over this and that. There are others, though, that go with the “respecting-the prototype-going-all-tumblrish-and-we-hate-each-other-but-why-does-it-even-matter-when-we-can-make-you-feel-terrible-our-squad-is-the-center-of-the*known-universe” type of thing. I don’t hate them, I don’t think I hate anybody at all, I just have to suffer because of them , once in a while, and the things that such people do or say regarding me came hunting my strong lack of balance during the summer holiday.

Anyway.

Ending my bigger than I initially intended talk about how delightfully much high school sucks from the social point of view when it comes to my lovely person, I will go on .

I inhale and exhale books and words and all and I regret nothing . I read because I probably am unable of managing this life in a grand way. I red because I need people to understand and to be understood by, I read because of my great fear of being trapped. A claustrophobia extended to planet Earth.  Leaving the self explanatory style aside, I have to admit that I read lots of things, but I currently have my fantasy period, though I highly enjoy everything that catches something in me, some sort of freaky part of my mind and drags it around the pages. I can’t totally suffer sloppy, useless, stupid romance, though, the same way I don’t agree with people judging books by being part – or not – of the prestigious group of classics – untouchable through time. Contemporary books can prove to be better than old literature , but I guess that is some sort of a taste discussion I am not ready to dive in. The important thing is, I am simply fueled by literature,in general.

What I hope I am going to write here is basically on the worthy topic of books and on the far less interesting thing that the way I understand life is.

Thank you if you read this.

so. hello again, world. i’m ana and i got a lot to tell.