Rain makes me think. It makes me think of darkness, of sorrow, but at the same time, it brings back memories of another day, another place, another time, when things were okay. When things were different, when I was allowed to run in the rain with my friend because we had nothing better to do. When such things wouldn't be considered juvenile because "you're too old for that." And as I get older, I get less and less innocent. I start changing, molding myself into an image I believe will be accepted by society.
I always told myself I would never do such a thing, but as I look back, I always have. I've always changed my shape and ways so that I would not be considered "crazy," or "stupid," because, as much as any self-respecting human hates to admit it, that's the only way to get by. You simply cannot survive by just "being yourself." You must learn to accept that society has its views on things, and that's all that matters.
If you want a tattoo, but the job you want or do doesn't allow them, you will not get a tattoo. If you want black fingernails, but your school has banned them, you will not do it. Rules are what shapes us. Deep inside, we all wish we could be brave enough to do the things we truly long to do, but society has such a band-aid on us, that the sting would be more than a sting if we ripped it off. If we removed the proverbial band-aid and allowed our scars to show, society would not accept us and only push us away. The sting would become a slight burn, until the pain was so white-hot that we were forced to put on another band-aid, this one also approved by the FDA of life.
If our scars are deep enough, society puts a bandage on us. Society wraps us so tightly that we cannot break free, until our nurse decides it's time for another bandage, and for a little while, we are truly ourselves. But then the nurse gets back with the gauze and tape and wraps us right back up again.
Speaking in metaphors again, eh Savannah?
Yep.
