Pleasemakeitstop
I am shit scared of getting struck by lightning.
I don't want to know the actual probability of that happening; I know I can beat those odds just by sitting quietly in my house, five meters away from the nearest open window or door.
Which is why I've been really tensed since the past month or so: every day has been a fucking ordeal because it almost never just rains over here; it's gotta fucking storm - with blinding flashes of lightning and terrifying cracks and booms of thunder.
And even though thunder scares me, lightning makes me shit my pants. Because lightning is silent; if it struck you dead, you'd never have seen or heard it coming. One blinding flash and you're a barbequed kebab before you can even blink.
These days, I power-walk home grasping my brolly low on my head which is hunched deep down into my shoulders, with my free hand hovering around an ear, ready to shield it from the surround-sound rumble of thunder. All the while chanting, "Pleasemakeitstop pleasemakeitstop pleasemakeitstop ..."
The most tragic thing is: I actually like walking in the rain ... or, at least, I used to. I know I'd complained about it back in Welly, but I really did like the rain there.
Even though the worst storm I'd gone through in Welly left me whimpering under my duvet for my daddy, and sleepless the entire night, it never made me more afraid than the five-minute walk home from the bus stop in a thunder storm (it's either "brave" the storm and walk home, or get wet under the miserably inadequate and flimsy shelter of the bus stop).
The weather here makes me wish I were dead.
(... or am I making up reasons for myself to loathe life on this island - even more?)
I don't want to know the actual probability of that happening; I know I can beat those odds just by sitting quietly in my house, five meters away from the nearest open window or door.
Which is why I've been really tensed since the past month or so: every day has been a fucking ordeal because it almost never just rains over here; it's gotta fucking storm - with blinding flashes of lightning and terrifying cracks and booms of thunder.
And even though thunder scares me, lightning makes me shit my pants. Because lightning is silent; if it struck you dead, you'd never have seen or heard it coming. One blinding flash and you're a barbequed kebab before you can even blink.
These days, I power-walk home grasping my brolly low on my head which is hunched deep down into my shoulders, with my free hand hovering around an ear, ready to shield it from the surround-sound rumble of thunder. All the while chanting, "Pleasemakeitstop pleasemakeitstop pleasemakeitstop ..."
The most tragic thing is: I actually like walking in the rain ... or, at least, I used to. I know I'd complained about it back in Welly, but I really did like the rain there.
Even though the worst storm I'd gone through in Welly left me whimpering under my duvet for my daddy, and sleepless the entire night, it never made me more afraid than the five-minute walk home from the bus stop in a thunder storm (it's either "brave" the storm and walk home, or get wet under the miserably inadequate and flimsy shelter of the bus stop).
The weather here makes me wish I were dead.
(... or am I making up reasons for myself to loathe life on this island - even more?)
posted by s at 00:30
1 Comments:
yep, you are. making up reasons. heh.
why don't you blast the volume from your headphones? lightning wouldn't electrocute you if it's something battery-powered, would it?
oh. that would've helped block out the thunder. hmmm... lightning, try doing the blind-man's-buff all the way home. 5 mins ain't far... and you'd get struck if you're fated anyway. eyes open or no. :)
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