something about drops of water coming from the sky in sheets so you can't see, about bright flashes of light and big rumbling noises that just turns me into a little kid again. it's exciting and scary and striking with awe and fear and everything all mixed into one.

it makes me feel alive, and i really like that feeling.

i think of growing up in muggy summer nights, ominous greens and clouds breaking at the brim of electricity. i think of bowling jokes, argument jokes, mythological tales told. the smell of rain and release, the feeling of the earth being cleansed and made new, fresh.

i always think as well of my first night in a foreign city, sleeping in a strange bed in a strange room. i think of that first night with its tumultuous storm and its thunder like i've never heard thunder before. rolling as if you could actually see it rippling through the sky, lasting and lasting and lasting. the loudest, longest sounds. i loved the sound of that thunder because it scared me, the anticipation of it coming with its blaring voice, knowing the jump you're about to have. yet at the same time, it was soothing, comforting - comforting to know that creation is powerful, and its creator. when i think of fearing i think of that kind of fear - that good kind, because it's soothing and exciting and so beautiful.

sometimes i love the way the world works.