Listen to the Rain

It's some ridiculous hour of the morning, and as usual I am awake. The sounds of Ingrid Michaelson married with the pulse of the rain falling seems like perfection to me. The soft, ambient light is set to my mood, and there's even a vase full of colorful flowers that are still living from a sushi party a week ago.

It's times like these, albeit at 3:30a.m., that make me happy and force me to think about the better things that are going on in my life. But why does it take all of these things to orchestrate before I stop and think about what's going on in my life, and what I have to be thankful for? Yes, I just ended a sentence in a preposition. Back off.

I guess it's that Promethean attribute that is driving me to understand who I am at a faster pace. I mean I think to a certain extent it's a pretentious thought too. I mean I write a blog, listen to indie music, and buy fresh flowers for my home, all the while still being fascinated by the rain. Either way, I want to know more.

I think all I need to complete this setting is my black, wire-framed glasses that are a must for emo kids like me.

Until then,
peas out.