Pluvophilia... Addictive!
There’s something uniquely tranquil about the early hours of a Sunday morning—especially when it's pouring rain. The world outside is silent, save for the rhythm of raindrops on windows, a soothing soundtrack that sets the stage for reflection, creativity, or simply the act of being.
At 4 AM, I find myself wrapped in a blanket of calm, with a cigarette in hand and thoughts flowing freely. The cigarette, an odd companion to the peacefulness of the morning, feels like a reminder of past moments, the kind of moments that emerge when the world is still asleep. A blog post begins to form in my mind, as words drift with the wind outside, seeking their place on the screen. It’s as though the rain is the one coaxing them out of me.
If only my wifi coffee pot timer were functional right now, I think, as the desire for the perfect cup of coffee dances in my head. The thought of it, brewing just as my fingers tap the keys, fills me with longing. But alas, no coffee pot timer to join me in this ritual, though I suppose that's just part of the charm. The anticipation of something so simple, yet so essential, makes the quiet even more tangible. In some strange way, I’m okay with it.
Despite the absence of a perfect brew, the rain makes up for everything. As I once told you, my best work flourishes with the sound of rain. It’s as if the rain becomes an extension of my thoughts, falling with rhythm, creating the perfect backdrop for creation. Every droplet, every puddle, seems to echo what’s stirring inside me. And in these moments, I feel most alive.
I’m a sucker for rainy days, and mornings like this only deepen that affection. It's more than just the weather—it’s the peace, the pause in time, the chance to just breathe and exist in the stillness. Whether I have a coffee pot or not, there’s magic in the rain that fuels my creativity, and for now, that’s all I need.
At 4 AM, I find myself wrapped in a blanket of calm, with a cigarette in hand and thoughts flowing freely. The cigarette, an odd companion to the peacefulness of the morning, feels like a reminder of past moments, the kind of moments that emerge when the world is still asleep. A blog post begins to form in my mind, as words drift with the wind outside, seeking their place on the screen. It’s as though the rain is the one coaxing them out of me.
If only my wifi coffee pot timer were functional right now, I think, as the desire for the perfect cup of coffee dances in my head. The thought of it, brewing just as my fingers tap the keys, fills me with longing. But alas, no coffee pot timer to join me in this ritual, though I suppose that's just part of the charm. The anticipation of something so simple, yet so essential, makes the quiet even more tangible. In some strange way, I’m okay with it.
Despite the absence of a perfect brew, the rain makes up for everything. As I once told you, my best work flourishes with the sound of rain. It’s as if the rain becomes an extension of my thoughts, falling with rhythm, creating the perfect backdrop for creation. Every droplet, every puddle, seems to echo what’s stirring inside me. And in these moments, I feel most alive.
I’m a sucker for rainy days, and mornings like this only deepen that affection. It's more than just the weather—it’s the peace, the pause in time, the chance to just breathe and exist in the stillness. Whether I have a coffee pot or not, there’s magic in the rain that fuels my creativity, and for now, that’s all I need.
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