I adore rainy days. With raindrops meticulously writing music notes on the ground, I found limitless inspirations on these cool and refreshing days.

I really despise rainy days,” JL says.

“Why? It’s nice and cool!” I square an ankle over one knee.

“The sky is dull, with clusters of inky clouds sitting above, inclement and humid,” frustration crinkles JL’s eyes, “Come on, it’s just unpleasant.”

I sneer, “If it’s not chilling and wet then it’s just not a rainy day.”

JL gives a grin, but she does not say anything. It seems she’s displeased by the rainy day.

I hummed a tune to myself, the drizzle just comes at the right moment.

“So when should it begin to sprinkle?” JL asks, doodling on her smartphone and tapping the air with her foot.

“I just don’t like scorchers. When I cannot tolerate the heat wave anymore, I would wish for a curtain of rain falling from the skies.”

“I hope the rain would come every time when I weep,” JL says, with lips primed, “and wash away my tears so that others can’t see.”

“If you want to cry, you just sob loudly as it rains heavily, why would you hide it?”

“I don’t like that. And I don’t want to be seen snivelling.”

“Look at it this way, sometimes rainy days make us happy.”

She wilts in the chair and pays languid attention to, “Pathetic. I can’t imagine that.”

“Maybe you want to listen to this one ‘Walalala It begins to rain!’1

Walalalala~ it begins to rain, everyone scrambles again

Bababababa~ taxis by the lane, for them it’s a huge gain

It’s so scenic!”

JL laughs, at last, “You didn’t listen to it to the end, the next line is:

Walalalala~ all with muggy stains, the smiles are hard to maintain

looking at the sky like birdbrains, shaking their heads with complains

It’s just not a happy song!”

“The rhythm is light, though,” my brows knitted in a frown, “it wants to express that some people are happy while some people are sad, it depends on how one perceives things.”

JL stares with cow eyes, “Haha, you just believe what you want to believe.”

For a few minutes I am not able to utter a word.
It’s my turn to remain silent.

To believe what you want to believe, is that contradictory?

JL continues, “How about put it this way, let’s listen to ‘A night with heavy rain’2

It was a chilly sooty night with a sombre sky and menacing rain, hope we won’t be roused from our beautiful dreams.”

“Stella Zhang, haha, a singer that I love. This is a sad song.” I say.

“In reality, there must be someone you cannot forget but you missed out somehow?”

JL expels her breath in a sigh.

“Yes, of course. Not many, though. Both missed out or be missed out.”

JL says, “Both will be suffering, just like it’s raining heavily in one’s own world.”

“Sounds legit. It’s so helpless in the dark chilly night.” I rest my chin in my palm. “However, if we stay in the dream, does it mean that we can live forever in another world?”

“Eventually, the rain will stop and the dream will end.” JL replies, “Will you still miss that rainy night at that moment?”

I inhale a deep breath and blow out slowly.

I do not answer.

Should I believe what I want to believe?


The songs mentioned above:
1. 嘩啦啦啦啦下雨了
2. 大雨的夜裡

Victor Tai | Freedom is a Right


  • LocationSiem Reap, Cambodia
  • CameraNikon FM2 / Nikkor 28mm f2.8 / ILFORD 100 iPhone 6 / VSCO
  • Other Language繁體中文

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