falling hard on the ground an endless shower of hopes and dreams .splattering my face with the cold shock of inspiration. The way to survive the rain of life. The downpour being both a blessing and a curse
It streams. Streams isn’t the right word. It’s a waterfall, a sheet enveloping the environment. The concrete is slick and I can’t find the traction on my sandals anymore. I look to my left. I look to my right and all around. Now travel seems pointless and I just stand still and tilt my head back and stand. And stay. And let it envelop me.
raining raining raining there’s no stopping it all I want to do is dance outside there’s not much to do indoors the absolute wetness of it all is beautiful and everything I can think of is cold water dripping down my skin and splashing in my face and I want to lie down and be alone with it
The water on the streets was beginning to pool in more places than usual, and Ted thought back to the 6 o’clock news he once saw about how to escape your car in case of a flood.
downpour, and we drink! bring out our mugs and chalices and dance in the rain, smelling nutty, or hoppy, or citrusy, it doesn’t matter, it’s BEER, it’s raining beer, turn up your head and open your mouth and enjoy god’s gift to man!
the rain would not stop coming down. there was a total deluge of droplets. The rain has not stopped in days. I need a new coat, because my trench coat does not have a hood. The downpour is preventing me and all my friends from going out. I feel like i live in London. It is absurd that there is so much rain in Philly. I love my rain boots.
Rain is falling, so hard. It’s hurting me. I can barely see your face through the torrential sheets; I know you have turned from me. Turn back, come back, I need you, I want you. I miss you already. This rain is burning me, I will never forget the rain.
When I see water pouring down from the ceiling and walls, I strangely feel relaxed. I can sit down and watch the show in awe for minutes… or I would, if I just hadn’t so much things to do.
The rain just kept on coming. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it rain like this. I’m from the North. I’m used to snow and all, but rain, and rain and rain. I can’t stand another day of slate grey skies. I’ve decided to take a flight. I don’t care where – I just want to be on top of the clouds for a few hours.
I stare blankly out the window. The rain battering down on the earth. The glass getting foggy, I can barely see. The weather matches my mood, dark, gloomy and depressing. I hate the downpour.
it was raining outside. “of course it is,” she told herself snappishly, “it’s seattle.” there was a downpour of a different sort, too, one of–lame as it was–feelings, and emotions, and fuckwhyamidoingthisican’tstanditanymore, and drenched in the downpour, she wondered why she bothered at all. her clothes clung to her skin, she was cold and wet and not happy at all, and she had no idea what to do. “downpours end,” she whispered to herself with a shiver, “and rainbows come when the sun shines.” it was a lie, but it was a comforting lie, and sometimes that was all she could get.
People rushed around me, scrambling to get out of the rain. Girls tried desperately to shield their painted makeup with their hands and boys covered their carefully gelled hair with the hoods of their jackets. Cars whizzed by, splashing water onto irritated pedestrians. On the corner of the street, two men were fighting over a cab.
In the middle of it all, I turned my face up towards the gray sky
and smiled.
They stood, clothing soaking wet, her hands pressing against his cashmere sweater. Red lipstick, curled, coiffed hair, fingers intertwining below the grey-blue sky.
It’s like a flood is being generated before my eyes. I can’t stop looking from outside the bus shelter, and seeing the rain pelt down on the people and vehicles surrounding me. At the same time, I can’t get over how stunning it is, all this water.
We truly do take these things for granted, don’t we?
Today, it was pouring outside, right as I was leaving work. It felt like a significant symbol in my dying career, like maybe an outer force was trying to tell me something, or maybe I am analyzing the situation too much. Surprisingly, I still felt warm, like the cold and wind and wetness didn’t affect me at all.
There was a downpour of sorrow and tears the day we found out we would never see him again. The pattering of rain against the window faded as the three knocks on the door hit, heavy and abrupt. A letter delivered by a man in uniform. The letter every military wife, mother, and friend fear. That letter now at my doorstep. My best friend; No more nights out, no more phone calls or inside jokes. Rest my friend and know that your flag and dog-tags will be safe with me.
The rain made havoc with the downpour. I walked on in the cold without an umbrella and allowed the rain to wash my worries away. How good it felt, to worry no more!
Rain is such a beautiful thing. I’ve always said how there’s something about the way the street looks when it’s just rained. It brings back childhood and happiness and running around outside, jumping in the nearest puddle and simply being content.
In the downpour I can’t feel the rain. It isn’t until I’m safe inside that I realize I’m wet. I make pour a glass of coffee, light a cigarette, and try to forget about it.
The downpour of the rain was accompanied by the downpour of sorrow. Hoping that at the end of the day, everything would flow to the sea and be carried away by the waves. And that the next morning breeze would finally bring delight.
I stood there, closed mouthed with my head hanging down. The street was lit with a single streetlight that illuminated the water from the torrential downpour falling from the black sky. I said your name under my breath, but you kept walking. Farther and farther away, never looking back.
She drove through the rain, thick as she’d ever seen in her lifetime. The windshield wipers slapped the water back and forth as she struggled to see where she was going. In weather like this it was impossible to even see your hand in front of your face, let alone drive as fast as she was. She reached down to turn the radio off as she hit a puddle and the car started spinning out of control. As the telephone pole came into view the last thought that she would ever have was, “He told me there would be a downpour.”
Downpour means a very heavy rain and storm. It is used in the weather report, there was a downpour in my hometown in 2007. I remember that clearly, people ran around to find a place to hide, some people even grabbe
I was standing outside, in the rain, alone. I had nothing but the downpour of rain and thunder to keep my company. I was in an odd place- a place of emptiness, in which my thoughts echoed with such a volume it became difficult to focus on the important thing.. where I was, and how I got there.
the rain is falling in a heavy downpour outside my window but I refuse to go outside. Cameron told me to meet him by the bench about two blocks away; he was planning on bringing some friends, and we were going to have a rain war. But tell me why I would ever want to actually get my cute little rain-boots wet? That would be preposterous. No, I’ll just sit inside and watch the lighting. They can have their fight by themselves.
it kept on downpuoring yesterday. it is weird to write about downpour. there was a downpour in colorado. it will downpour later today. it is scary when there is a downpour. i have to write about downpour.
it pours down and reminds me of rain, or the downpour of a person who rules a country through an iron fist. Seemingly the words sounds like it could have a
Downpour on me, as I stand in the street. Downpour in my heart. Outpouring into my friends and lovers. Revitalisation as the past is washed away. Breathe.
Rain. Drenching me. Darkness. Dramatic. Wet. Cold. Sad. Trembling. Nightmare. Sobbing. Lighting cracks, in the distance. Thunder booms over the horizon. I see a dark figure. A ghost of a silhouette coming towards me in the dark… My teeth are chattering. My hair sticks to my face. My eye lashes drip over my eyes. I can barely see through the downpour.
Today it was raining really hard, and I just ran outside with my gumboots and pink dress and spun around outside for at least five minutes. It really cleanses you, and I felt so full and grown-up when I went back inside and drank chicken soup from a giant coffee cup.
The last rain I stood in I was ill prepared for. I knew it would happen. But I carried no umbrella, wore no outer layer.
It started in the middle of dessert which was simply tea with nothing to eat, the beginnings of an ulcer already bearing it’s ugly face inside me.
A dear friend told me I would fight this academic year like I have never fought before. Earn like I have never earned before. And chance upon a different side of myself if fortune favors the boldness of my moves.
How do you listen to someone telling you to change everything in your life that you thought was working? How do you then go about this change?
If there is a voice that says you cannot, then do and it will be silenced.
It has been silenced and I am amazed when I look back.
falling hard on the ground an endless shower of hopes and dreams .splattering my face with the cold shock of inspiration. The way to survive the rain of life. The downpour being both a blessing and a curse
It streams. Streams isn’t the right word. It’s a waterfall, a sheet enveloping the environment. The concrete is slick and I can’t find the traction on my sandals anymore. I look to my left. I look to my right and all around. Now travel seems pointless and I just stand still and tilt my head back and stand. And stay. And let it envelop me.
raining raining raining there’s no stopping it all I want to do is dance outside there’s not much to do indoors the absolute wetness of it all is beautiful and everything I can think of is cold water dripping down my skin and splashing in my face and I want to lie down and be alone with it
The water on the streets was beginning to pool in more places than usual, and Ted thought back to the 6 o’clock news he once saw about how to escape your car in case of a flood.
downpour, and we drink! bring out our mugs and chalices and dance in the rain, smelling nutty, or hoppy, or citrusy, it doesn’t matter, it’s BEER, it’s raining beer, turn up your head and open your mouth and enjoy god’s gift to man!
the rain would not stop coming down. there was a total deluge of droplets. The rain has not stopped in days. I need a new coat, because my trench coat does not have a hood. The downpour is preventing me and all my friends from going out. I feel like i live in London. It is absurd that there is so much rain in Philly. I love my rain boots.
Rain is falling, so hard. It’s hurting me. I can barely see your face through the torrential sheets; I know you have turned from me. Turn back, come back, I need you, I want you. I miss you already. This rain is burning me, I will never forget the rain.
When I see water pouring down from the ceiling and walls, I strangely feel relaxed. I can sit down and watch the show in awe for minutes… or I would, if I just hadn’t so much things to do.
The rain just kept on coming. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it rain like this. I’m from the North. I’m used to snow and all, but rain, and rain and rain. I can’t stand another day of slate grey skies. I’ve decided to take a flight. I don’t care where – I just want to be on top of the clouds for a few hours.
I stare blankly out the window. The rain battering down on the earth. The glass getting foggy, I can barely see. The weather matches my mood, dark, gloomy and depressing. I hate the downpour.
Salt
Salt is what I think of
the girl with the umbrella on the salt container
“When it rains, it pours.”
it was raining outside. “of course it is,” she told herself snappishly, “it’s seattle.” there was a downpour of a different sort, too, one of–lame as it was–feelings, and emotions, and fuckwhyamidoingthisican’tstanditanymore, and drenched in the downpour, she wondered why she bothered at all. her clothes clung to her skin, she was cold and wet and not happy at all, and she had no idea what to do. “downpours end,” she whispered to herself with a shiver, “and rainbows come when the sun shines.” it was a lie, but it was a comforting lie, and sometimes that was all she could get.
People rushed around me, scrambling to get out of the rain. Girls tried desperately to shield their painted makeup with their hands and boys covered their carefully gelled hair with the hoods of their jackets. Cars whizzed by, splashing water onto irritated pedestrians. On the corner of the street, two men were fighting over a cab.
In the middle of it all, I turned my face up towards the gray sky
and smiled.
They stood, clothing soaking wet, her hands pressing against his cashmere sweater. Red lipstick, curled, coiffed hair, fingers intertwining below the grey-blue sky.
It’s like a flood is being generated before my eyes. I can’t stop looking from outside the bus shelter, and seeing the rain pelt down on the people and vehicles surrounding me. At the same time, I can’t get over how stunning it is, all this water.
We truly do take these things for granted, don’t we?
Today, it was pouring outside, right as I was leaving work. It felt like a significant symbol in my dying career, like maybe an outer force was trying to tell me something, or maybe I am analyzing the situation too much. Surprisingly, I still felt warm, like the cold and wind and wetness didn’t affect me at all.
Downpour
I love rain.
Mostly I’m thinking of woods and camping, and summer camp… Isn’t that when downpours always happen?
Poking a tarp, from underneath with a stick, to release all the accumulating water…. plastic ponchos… gray… puddles… leaves… woods… gravel…
The sound of rain…
And birds… always the sound of birds afterwards. Excited, shaking water off their heads, hoping from tree to tree.
There was a downpour of sorrow and tears the day we found out we would never see him again. The pattering of rain against the window faded as the three knocks on the door hit, heavy and abrupt. A letter delivered by a man in uniform. The letter every military wife, mother, and friend fear. That letter now at my doorstep. My best friend; No more nights out, no more phone calls or inside jokes. Rest my friend and know that your flag and dog-tags will be safe with me.
The rain made havoc with the downpour. I walked on in the cold without an umbrella and allowed the rain to wash my worries away. How good it felt, to worry no more!
Rain is such a beautiful thing. I’ve always said how there’s something about the way the street looks when it’s just rained. It brings back childhood and happiness and running around outside, jumping in the nearest puddle and simply being content.
In the downpour I can’t feel the rain. It isn’t until I’m safe inside that I realize I’m wet. I make pour a glass of coffee, light a cigarette, and try to forget about it.
The downpour of the rain was accompanied by the downpour of sorrow. Hoping that at the end of the day, everything would flow to the sea and be carried away by the waves. And that the next morning breeze would finally bring delight.
I stood there, closed mouthed with my head hanging down. The street was lit with a single streetlight that illuminated the water from the torrential downpour falling from the black sky. I said your name under my breath, but you kept walking. Farther and farther away, never looking back.
The downpour of blessings is something to be thankful for, as well as the downpour of problems.
She drove through the rain, thick as she’d ever seen in her lifetime. The windshield wipers slapped the water back and forth as she struggled to see where she was going. In weather like this it was impossible to even see your hand in front of your face, let alone drive as fast as she was. She reached down to turn the radio off as she hit a puddle and the car started spinning out of control. As the telephone pole came into view the last thought that she would ever have was, “He told me there would be a downpour.”
Downpour means a very heavy rain and storm. It is used in the weather report, there was a downpour in my hometown in 2007. I remember that clearly, people ran around to find a place to hide, some people even grabbe
Downpour means heavy storm and rain. It is a noun, used to the wearther report. There is a downpour in my home town in 2007
downpour is downpour.
i down pour my thoughts on people in a way that makes them understand.
they listen
this rain inside my heart has no clouds.
I was standing outside, in the rain, alone. I had nothing but the downpour of rain and thunder to keep my company. I was in an odd place- a place of emptiness, in which my thoughts echoed with such a volume it became difficult to focus on the important thing.. where I was, and how I got there.
on the roof of the car,
let it pour..
we melt the windows into a mess,
my pure bliss,
you’re holding my heart
my final breath..
the rain is falling in a heavy downpour outside my window but I refuse to go outside. Cameron told me to meet him by the bench about two blocks away; he was planning on bringing some friends, and we were going to have a rain war. But tell me why I would ever want to actually get my cute little rain-boots wet? That would be preposterous. No, I’ll just sit inside and watch the lighting. They can have their fight by themselves.
it kept on downpuoring yesterday. it is weird to write about downpour. there was a downpour in colorado. it will downpour later today. it is scary when there is a downpour. i have to write about downpour.
it pours down and reminds me of rain, or the downpour of a person who rules a country through an iron fist. Seemingly the words sounds like it could have a
Downpour on me, as I stand in the street. Downpour in my heart. Outpouring into my friends and lovers. Revitalisation as the past is washed away. Breathe.
Suddenly there was a downpour of coincidences falling into my life, something which I wasn’t too familiar with.
Rain. Drenching me. Darkness. Dramatic. Wet. Cold. Sad. Trembling. Nightmare. Sobbing. Lighting cracks, in the distance. Thunder booms over the horizon. I see a dark figure. A ghost of a silhouette coming towards me in the dark… My teeth are chattering. My hair sticks to my face. My eye lashes drip over my eyes. I can barely see through the downpour.
dude, it’s so hard to go back to the previous entry list…
Today it was raining really hard, and I just ran outside with my gumboots and pink dress and spun around outside for at least five minutes. It really cleanses you, and I felt so full and grown-up when I went back inside and drank chicken soup from a giant coffee cup.
The last rain I stood in I was ill prepared for. I knew it would happen. But I carried no umbrella, wore no outer layer.
It started in the middle of dessert which was simply tea with nothing to eat, the beginnings of an ulcer already bearing it’s ugly face inside me.
A dear friend told me I would fight this academic year like I have never fought before. Earn like I have never earned before. And chance upon a different side of myself if fortune favors the boldness of my moves.
How do you listen to someone telling you to change everything in your life that you thought was working? How do you then go about this change?
If there is a voice that says you cannot, then do and it will be silenced.
It has been silenced and I am amazed when I look back.
Struck by awe when I look at the present.
And filled with wonder by the future