15: song

When the piano plays, I forget about the rain outside.

That too becomes a song — a sweet, translucent web binding together our existence.

There is no rain right now, but the melody in my mind transports me … to a bed by a window, a pale sky. A red, scratchy blanket is laid smoothly over the bed. I’m sitting on the blanket — one leg down its side, the other folded under me. My neck is turned toward the window. My eyes try to follow the raindrops.

If I try hard enough, move my eyes quickly enough over and over again, I believe that perhaps for just a split second, I’ll catch a glimpse of individual shapes. The beads of my eyes will mirror the belly of the water droplets, and I’ll travel down with them for a while.

But I keep missing them. They’re too fast. I never catch up.

Soon I give up the reigns and see the rain for what it is: a downpour. I don’t mind not dissecting it anymore; I already know what it is. And sometimes you don’t need to see each particle to believe; it’s just as comforting to sit on the sidelines and watch it calmly flow its course.

So I continue to sit on the bed, watch the rain from inside and wait, alone with the piano.

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About tali2

I am a recent grad of the wonderful English major. Though I don't regret studying English one bit, I realize why my teachers, parents, friends, and imaginary mentors warned me against it: Because it leads you nowhere. But it did give me great writing skills which I hope to continue honing in this blog as I chronicle the tribulations of the terrible job hunt in the terrible job market of NYC. And I hope that my blog reminds fellow unemployed recent grads that you are not alone, inspires some hope within us, while presenting a snapshot of our lives to others who do not share the same self-imposed troubles.
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