The Paradox Heaven

If ever I sit somewhere, immobilized in silence and watching the rain, do not disturb me.

I always say that I hate it when it rains. It has somehow made me feel melancholic and gloomy. The drops that hug my window blocks my view of the landscape I’ve always wanted to see. The weather stops me from getting out. The sound of the raindrops falling on the roof silenced everything: from the television to my own voice. Everything sounds obscure when it rains. So I am forced to sit silently at one corner, thinking of deep thoughts, pondering on the reality and even slipping away from it. The rain makes me look and feel like a silent lamb just before the slaughter.

Now, weird as it may seem, I’ve somehow fell in love with the rain and being in this state, a catatonia-like state. I am awake, watching the rain and stepping into stupor. Conscious but immobilized. It made me feel like I’m travelling, going to places farther that I could ever imagine. Just sitting on one corner of the room with my mind clear, ears muffed by the rain, eyes focused on the droplets peering through my window: these things brought me a different feeling for the rainy days. And now, I am looking forward to hearing the first drop that touches the roof.

The Flashbacks

Encased in a hollow part of my mind was my past: from my first memory to the last time I closed my eyes to sleep. It was my childhood, my yesterday. A time I could never ever buy back but a time I could always return to while in this state of complete silence.

At some point, while being in this state, watching the rain, it brought me back to my younger days. Those were the carefree days. It was the time when my morning starts with a daily dose of cartoons and ends with prayer at my bedside. It was when my teddy bear protects me from the monsters, when I feel safe under my blanket, when the tooth fairy collects my severed tooth in exchange of a coin.  I see the younger version of me playing outside, enjoying every drop of the rain that touches my body. It’s a time when I am completely happy just by playing in the rain, kicking my feet to every puddle of mud I see and running with my friends while splashing water at anything. Those little things that bring delight to a child could never again bring happiness to a grown-up like me. I know it was an easy thing to be contented. But how I wish I could still be happy enough just by doing it again. I know I never will. So I dig deep into those memories, hoping it will somehow make me happy. And it never fails to do so.

The Dream

In my immobility and silence, imagination always knock at one corner of my mind and I welcome it with warmth and joy. Imagination is a friend that comes to my rescue when things get boring, even when things are at its worst. It has been saving me from insanity, although it could throw me out of sanity. The rain and the sound that it brings always add up to the encouragement that I hug imagination with all my heart. And then, I fall into a world where good things could always happen: a dream.

Dreaming of what would happen tomorrow, the what if’s, the possibilities, the impossible. I suddenly enter a world where everything’s going my way. As my body sits there, silenced by the rain, my imagination runs somewhere, in a place I could only create. It was a place fashioned to feed my mind with happy thoughts. Thinking of the days when I could be happy all the time. It sounded like unicorns and candies. It sounds unreal. Yes, it is unreal. But what’s a moment of slipping away from reality if it could bring happiness? Dreaming is free. It’s a cliché but it’s true. I’m thankful dreams come in unlimited supplies, without tax and price tags. It’s the only free object that I benefit from the most. Seeing the future in a bright side and always being happy. It’s what matters when one is dreaming. It’s like satisfying your heart’s desire, escaping from the jails of the present, running in the fields of tomorrow.

The Reality

When the rain stops, it kicks you back into the reality.

The trickling sound of the last drops and the tweets of the bird serve as an alarm clock.  It’s time to let go and move out of this catatonia-like state. My ears can now hear, my window has been cleared and I am now completely awake. It’s as if I travelled somewhere far enough not to return. But then I have to go back because I have to. This is the reality: where everyone belongs.

Going back into the reality after the flashbacks and the dreams was way too easy but leaving what you’re mind has been into was hard. If only I could stay in the happiest moments of my past and jump straight into my dream, I would. Wishful thinking it is. But I had to go back and do something with my present.

As I travel back into the real world and traverse its hard terrains, I know I will have to face things that might force me to stay forever in catatonia. But I won’t let that happen.

I could always bring the good old days with me as a reminder that I could always find happiness even in the simplest things. Just like a child playing in the rain.

I can still dream anywhere, awake or asleep. It’s free. Although not every single of it is meant to come true, I can always do something to somehow make it happen. Reality may sometimes bite and you can never bite it back. But you can always do something to dodge from its fangs. The past can be your weapon and the future is your shield.

Sitting there, watching and listening to the rain, slipping into catatonia, going back to the freshest, happiest memories, creating a world where dreams do come true - this is what helps me go on and live, even in the darkest hour of my life. They will always be the tiny dots of light that help me see while travelling the course of this life.

So when it rains, find me a chair, leave me there by the window and let catatonia come to me.