Thursday, February 26, 2009

This happens when my head feels foggy.

Yesterday i saw a rainbow. It was big, a huge arch hung high up, a bridge or maybe a divider between two pictures--dark rolling clouds with rain and bright cerulean against the sunset. And right down the middle, it was like walking between dimensions, like you could draw a line in the sky and no one would be able to tell that both sides were actually connected to each other.

The rainbow was beautiful and clear. And it had a twin, a faint one that dodged cameras even as it shimmered in and out of existence. that was in the evening.

But earlier, the sun was so harsh at Bishan park that i thought that the grass would burst into flames. or maybe i'm over exaggerating. but i felt like heat stroke and the stench of sweaty bodies hiding under trees as they stole off to drink milo from the milo van even when they weren't supposed to.

anyway, it was a school road run.

Listen: this is where it starts. at the time the mass run set off to the sound of a horn for competitions, we walked. and walked. and refused to run because that is what teenagers do best, and listened to ipods and chattered with friends and tried to sneak past the marshalls standing guard at shortcuts. and some did run. i brisked walked. lucky for us, there were trees, or i think we would be running in the gobi desert, throats parched and sweat making our eyebrows heavy. above us, black clouds appeared out of the blue (haha, pun) and then suddenly, it wasn't so hot anymore.

The rain came like a wall of water. some people ran into it because there was only one road then. Many were running away from it, like a dobberman on your heels as though your pants smelled like beef jerky. one moment, you are fleeing, and next thing you know, you're a running victorian secrets fashion disaster, your (black) bra in stark contrast to your white cotten tee, now translucent, and you have no idea when you have become drenched. come to think of it, it was comical.

rain got into my shoes. rain got into my ipod. If i were in a dry place, i would look as though i jumped into a pool with my clothes on. rain fell against my glasses, and at that moment, i wished my glasses were a car, with screenwipers so that i don't crash into trees. in two pavillions, wet bodies huddled under the shelter, crowded like slimy eels. the rain still blew in somewhat anyway. i heard that the wind blew some people bent, their backs not strong enough to resist the gale and they looked like old women with hunched backs. or unstable penguins toppling over.

back at the field where we were supposed to be, water refused to seep into the ground. people dashed acrossed the field, irregardless of lightning lighting up the whole sky. i ran, heedless of the rain, back to the tent which held my bag. my bag is canvas, a little pseudo leather, and full of paper notes. it has an umbrella. i hauled it (along with some other people, and i didn't haul them) over to the void deck nearby, us cramming under my umbrella as though we would be dry by standing under it. it did keep our bags relatively dry. i remember wading across the road, teachers suddenly becoming traffic wardens, pausing traffic like spliting a swelling ocean. actually, it was only two teachers, desperately stopping traffic to avoid students getting run over in a bad arcade game.

i played ferryman after that, carrying my little black umbrella around moving people who were carrying more than one bag in an attempt to keep them above muddy watery field (the boys tended to carry an armful) across the river styx, except that it was actually to shelter. pretending that the bags under me wouldn't get any wetter. i saw a bag, cloth, tote, open. muddy water just flowed in, and if the notes in there still retained its shape i would be surprised.

Back at the shelters where most of the crowd were, away from the media crew bodily, and umbrella-ly sheltering their speakers and mikes, away from the new found beasts of burden loaded with schoolbags and making a pilgrimage to dry haven, away from the teachers who stayed and got their working shoes decimated, the people still got wet, if the rain was washed in by the wind. Everytime the thunder rolled, they shrieked, as though their lives were at an end. and maybe it was. approximately the cost of $70, the price of a graphic calculator, and a wadful of notes cramped in a non water-proof bag.

and then after a while, it was over. most people, already wet, walked over when there was less rain to the void deck where their bags (mostly black again) were put in a sea of other bags. i stood on the bus with my friends, getting stares from passengers who wondered who these freaks were, and don't you dare drip on me i have designer shoes. (or maybe they stared at us with pity, although they would inch probably away from us, them being utterly dry.)

and i wondered if i should have stood in the rain, watch the winds blow the water across the pond like a mini sea storm, feel the rivets of water get into my eyes and make it sting, let it flow down my spine, and laugh at the sky and feel invincible and alive.

later, i saw the rainbow.



EDIT: upon re-reading, it's strange what your mind comes up with when it's half full of fluff. The only thing i can say in defence to this piece of crap is i was half asleep.

STORY CUT SHORT: my school had a road run at Bishan Park. (WHO THE HELL HOLDS RUNS AT BISHAN PARK WHEN YOU'RE AT BUONA VISTA?!) They didn't have a wet weather program. naturally, it rained. we got very very wet. our G.C got wet. our notes got wet. Some of these got utterly screwed. Cameras, handphones and mp3 players were also on the casualty lists. Beautiful weather, that.

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