Summer Rains...

She looked out of the window. The wet summer rain and the soft droplets shining like pearl droppings in the faint sun.
She took in a deep swig of the moist wind. Her face covered with her palms to feel the splashes that brilliantly settled on them from nowhere.
Where now? She remembered asking herself this question a million times before. She never remembered the answers, even if she did.
She smiled as she drew a long, deliberate, invigorating puff of the most precious weed she had drawn into her lungs in ages.
Better, best forgotten...
The track played like the Gods were trying to modify the impression we earthlings have conjured of them.
Life is not trying to prove itself to anyone. It is what it is, always. At times, it may spring at you across the vast emptiness, with a purpose to help you delve deep into your conscience, and at other times because you're just bored with no one to talk to.
Either ways, it will just pass. It is important not to trust anyone, just like it's important to let others be free. You can refuse to do it and be vehemently demanding, but ... doesn't help.
Some people feign understanding what your core is. Others simply ignore.
She longed to meet someone who will better learn to ignore her but still stay, lurking in the silence of co-existence, of a deeper bond and acceptance. Someone who doesn't love her, only to start building a 'desirable' person around her very truth ; only to start taking advantage of her efforts.
And why should one 'try'? Am I not being honest in saying that I am just tired of trying ...
Don't tell me it's for my own god, that I should stop being...

The cell buzzed - always on silent ... yeah. Time to go pitcher downing...
See I told you... it will just pass.