the word supple and a walk in the rain

there is one word that always catches me off guard, simply because it is surprising. "supple". when i say this word, it gives me a feeling that one gets when they know that they are putting their life in the narrow palm of one person who they know is the strongest person in the world. why? because that's just what you do; that's what that person is there to do, hold you.

when people talk about supple ropes or whips or wires, i think that they are thick but thin, and they feel weak but strong. there's just no simple way to understand how a single twine could hold an entire grand piano (which is not nearly as heavy as a human life. if you've ever worn the albatross, then you'll know. not that i have).

so aside from being unable to comprehend a good length of cord, what else has supple done in my life? am i supple? no, my back is a mess of aches, and i can't even touch my toes anymore. but am i supple? yes. i can see what grows in between your ears, what falls from your lips and tongue, what climbs into your thoughts and what color colors your worst nightmares. i am supple like no whip ever was, that can crack and cause you to dance the macarena, a rope that can tie your mind into knots, a snake slithering among the crevasses of your brain and intercepting each and every synapse.

but enough boasting. i riddle in fantasies, and you gape at my "suppleness" that extends as far as the tips of my eyeballs and the back playroom of my imagination.

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i was leaving work the other day, and it began to rain. i had only walked down the stairs to find that the sky had simply died and was letting go of whatever perch it usually perches upon, leaving instead to find a suitable nest on the top of my head, my shoulders, my chest, my back and subsequently every other part of me.

suffice to say, normal folk generally decide to wait it out. suffice to say, i am not a normal folk. i felt that since i was armed with a sweater for the cold lab, flip-flops for my laziness, an excellently stocked mp3 player, and a not a single care for any normal comfort, it would be safe to take a dip in the pool of the sidewalk.

a man looked from the stairway above on my right outwards, then decided to go back to the safety of convention. i would not be so daring as he.

each step was bliss. at first i wondered how much water was in my hair, my sweater, my bag with lovely computers in it, but then i got to wondering if it was good to walk in water up to my ankles and if i might contract parasitic organisms from aquatic snails; eventually i got to wondering if the song playing was right for the atmosphere.

i began with a quick and upbeat pop song, which easily gave way to the melancholy and thoughtful crooning of a personal favorite that likely none of you know, as it is my personal gem. this not fitting quite well enough, i changed onward towards instrumental cacophony, which was perhaps not as brooding as electronic grumbling and rumbling and rising and climbing and exploding. but that was still not quite the right noise for my ears, and after attempting a simple piano waltz, i removed my ears from my head to hear the sounds of millions and millions of spheres of molecules of water of the sky of everything of everything plopping splatting plipping smushing smashing dropping down and down and still and more and endlessly! how endless it was. there had been symphony before, but here was a symphony of symphonies! the rain needs no soundtrack.

i strode down and down past buildings and under trees which reveal bass beats that surprise you by falling into your eyes. as i walked along the curb a car drove through a puddle and i was splashed quite literally as those people in cartoons or the movies are splashed by an absurd amount of water, and yet i couldn't help but feel so please to make the acquaintance of each sensation upon my face and my hands, sad that i could not feel the vibrations against my chest but for my shirt and the heavy sweater. it was more than just sound, more than music, it was alive! and i do not mean in the sense of a multitude of microorganisms.

at that moment, standing on the curb and reveling in the muddy water that a passing car had driven into my face, i knew exactly who i was and exactly where i was headed. i was a wet 19 year old college student, and i was headed back to my dorm to get a change of clothes. and that was quite enough for me. that moment of lucidness opened the way for cascades and cascades of revelations, from the location of my extra set of car keys that had been lost days before to the knowledge that i would could be the most caring husband and father that any family could ever want or need. while i rubbed wetness from my eyes and wondered if my mp3 player would short circuit, my mind mulled the meaning of life and my stomach mulled a croissant and a danish.

i was content, for the first time in days and weeks, and i decided then that i enjoyed rain, as well as music and thinking. there was little to be gained without any of the three, though the need of thinking is debatable. nonetheless, there were things to be done, and i pulled my tongue from my cheek, stepped down to cross the street only to put myself in the muddy puddle that had just splashed me, and proceeded with caution. why? because i was crossing the street.

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=) yay for writing. again, i would appreciate comments! i love feedback... and i swear that every time i look at my closet, my suit hanging there seems to be swinging on its hanger like somebody just tipped it. i'm scared.