The Phenomenatique - Entry 1

The Phenomenatique

     ...it was raining
     It was raining outside and it had been raining when it happened. Curtains of waters fell obscuring all view outside the window. The ancient Greeks believed that a god resided in the sky. He was not only the god of the sky but the grandfather of all the Olympians. This god was overthrown by his children and they, in turn, would be overthrown by the Olympians. But when this god of the sky was overthrown he retreated into his domain and would forever mourn for he was no longer one with the Gia, the Earth, and his love. And thus he would shed tears for a lost golden age. These tears were what made the rain.
    I wiped away a tear that had come from the corner of my eye. There was nothing but deep dark blue and gray. That's all the world was, shades of blue and gray. Those were now the colors of myself. I wanted to move closer to the window but my legs wouldn't let me. My body would no longer let me. I am a prisoner. Trapped in myself. The television was on. The local news station reported on a flurry of happenings. A man had been shot and killed, his killer was still loose. An elderly woman had been put on hold while calling 9-11 but the burglar did her no harm, only stealing her television then fleeing the crime. Teachers were threatening to go on strike and thus threatening a delay of the oncoming school year. A hurricane by the name of Barbara was barreling through the Caribbean.
     But rain outside was not a part of that storm. It was a part of something else altogether. Endlessly the heavens poured down on the Earth. I wanted to feel it in the middle of my palm. I wanted to catch the rain with my pink tongue. I wanted to smell that earthy smell produced right after it rains. But most importantly, I wanted to know what had happened. Everything seemed so far away and remote now. Everything seemed alien. It couldn't always have been like this. Right? I shut my eyes tightly to catch another tear before it can fall out. My body can go nowhere but my mind roams aimlessly, a vagabond with no home.
     This is today. This is me now. This is all that is left, only a ghost. Nothing but specter...