"The rain is fallin on my window pane, but we are hidin in a safer place; under covers stayin dry and warm, you give me feelings that i adore.."
my ideal Sunday mornings of the future haha
Residents of LA, stick your head out today, touch the wet air and smell the sky
it smells so good.
(in an old letter to Dama)
"Anyway. On a happier note, in your letter you said something about how it was so pretty after it rained. I agree very very much, being pretty after it rains, about everywhere and also particularly about a certain place.
And this place is…. The Plaza Del Toros. You know, the Spanish buildings. Haha. I’m serious though. My gosh. I remember a day, I think… my junior year? I had Spanish in the morning, and it had just rained. It was kind of a cloudier, darker, morning, but it was beautiful. The sky was a grey-blue, and the air felt PURE-- like there was nothing in it. Like the rain had washed the air clean. Everything smelled so wonderful and fresh. Because of the rain. It really felt like it was a perfect moment in time. The rain had clearly stopped, but it was there all around you, as if in spirit. And the sun still wasn’t out. To me it really felt like some fantastic pause in the weather. If you were to fall upon the secret gap in between rain and sun, this would be it. It was a perfect place in time and in weather. Walking into the Plaza del Toros (I was upstairs), I just looked down at the scene and I couldn’t believe how serene and peaceful everything was. The place glistened. The ground was all the same color, wet concrete. And that glistened. And the buildings looked brighter, not as dry, new, lively. They glistened too. And the plants were so green and glazed and guess what, …they glistened. And everything was clean. I remember talking with my friend Sneha who I was walking with, about how much we both loved rain. And I kept saying how clean everything was. Like the rain was some magical forgiving shower that cleaned everything and made it pure. And I kept wanting to pause. To breathe. The air was so clean that day. Dama, silence of contentment if I ever knew it. =) "
When I make playlists, it's a very natural process that I really enjoy experiencing. Yeah, I do feel that it's more of an experience than a task of my own doing, because like I said, to me it's a natural process, it takes it's own occurrence. It's nice not having to do the work hahaha.
All I do is play the song stuck in my head, which in this case was the song "I'm Only Happy When it Rains" by Garbage. And after that, as this selection comes to a close, with its natural course, a new song pops into my head as the next song. In this case it was "Bubbly" --Colbie Caillat. And then that song ends, and then another song pops into my head. It's really easy. And fun.
Here it is so far-
- Garbage – I’m only happy when it rains
- Colbie Caillat – Bubbly
- Maroon 5 – Sunday Morning
- Rihanna – Umbrella
- Lil Wayne – Make it Rain
- Toto – Africa
- Matchbox 20 – 3AM
Eclectic in genre but I mean, it must be meant to be like that or else it wouldn't have come out like that. that's always what I believe.
I came on here, titling this post "So this is it", because i wanted to imply that i had discovered something, that i had discovered something, and ah, "so this is it"
well that thing is love.
Yeah whatever you can laugh at how cliche that is. Or you can shut up and read. Or listen if you've been imagining my pseudo-man voice. Haha whatever. Proud was on the phone with her friend once when I was hosting a rally in the background, and he said i had a nice voice. so there. =p Ok lemme get on with it-
Last week was Thanksgiving Break.
I was working on something on the computer-- I'm guessing it was editing my Facebook profile-- hahah, when my Gmail notifier popped up with a notification, saying I'd gotten a comment from my brother.
Interesting. He only ever really just replies to mine-- I wonder what was up. That was just for a second.. and then i jumped on the comment LoL.
"Hey, I have to do a gay research thing for history about the Greco-Persian Wars…and in IB we can’t use the internet -_-
So I was wondering if you could attempt to get these books for me from the UCLA library. Yea please get them before you come home tomorrow and don’t forget to bring them because I need them next Monday. Ok thanks. Here is a list of books you can get, but are not limited to. I need about 6 books minimum. So yea, sorry if you have to break your back to bring them home.
Histories – By Herodotus
Persians – By Aeschylus
Histories – By Diodorus
Of the books above I need only two.
The Greco-Persian Wars by P. Green
The Defense of Greece by J. Lazenby
Xerxes’ Invasion of Greece by C. Hignett
And any other book you might find about the Greco-Persian Wars and the Battle of Thermopylae."
Yeah not too alarming right? Wrong. Key words here: Yea please get them before you come home tomorrow
EXCUSE ME?? You tell me the NIGHT before the MORNING i come home to search through a university library for six books that obviously aren't common enough in the real world for you to find in any other library and who even knows if they'll be here and you need them next MONDAY??
see.
that's how i would have responded.
but it went more like this:
EXCUSE ME??
Ok I'll do it.
So that's it.
You usually know when you love someone. But sometimes there are such tangible reminders, like some acorn of realization just fell out of the tree of love and hit you on your head, and you know right then, you don't only feel that you love them, or say you do, but with reminders like that, you really know.
So I get out of lecture on Wednesday, its 10 A.M. I head straight to Powell, with a FIRE burning in me. What I wanted, was nothing more than to find each and every single book my brother had asked for. I imagined his contentment, his bolstered faith that I could and I would do anything for him, that he could always count on me, (although I preferred not the day before it's necessary but oh well because i love him right haha). I enter Powell, put up with a rude librarian, confuse myself with catalogue numbers and acres of bookshelves, discover parts of the library i never even knew existed, only to come up, with zero of the books my brother wanted.
I wanted to kill myself.
Painstakingly I looked through anonymous shelves to find SOMETHING. From the moment that fire burned in me, I had felt that acorn hit me on the head. I was living a tangible moment of realization that I really love my brother. But I felt it even more so when I was looking so hard for these books. Because that was it. KNOWING, knowing knowing knowing, that this wasn't easy, that this wasn't fair, that maybe this wasn't possible, that this was in a way, out of my way, knowing all of that-- I still wanted to do it. Key word there, i really wanted to do it. I didn't care. I wanted so much to do this for him.
I looked through the online catalogues again and realized, I might have better luck at the Charles E. Young Research Library. All the way North Campus. Not too far from where I already was-- but still. Well if there was a chance there, that's where I'd be. So I left Powell and marched.
I felt it then, i knew it, so this is it. This is love. Sure, it's not me donating my kidney. Which I would do. But given the circumstances in the scale of my little college world, this was significantly me going out of my everyday way. But I just really wanted to do it so much. I just wanted to do it for him.
Point of the story is
I got all the books. And I remember walking back, feeling SO accomplished, SO content, SO GOOD, and just thinking, so this is it. this is love. love with its many definitions, and i had collected another one. a very strong one in my opinion. when you know it wont be easy, when it will be hard, when presented with an irrational request, and regardless of what you should or should not do, you do it because you WANT to for this person. that's love. when you want to, not because you have to.
My brother is my brother, my family. Yeah, I could have "had" to get the books for him or else I'd have to hear about it from somebody else maybe. But that never crossed my mind.
That's love.
Happy belated brah-
Love
Sis
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