The Rain Washes… Nothing

They say the rain washes it all. Well, I don’t know about that.

The rain my wash the slime on the surface and the dust hanging in the air, but there are certain things no rain can wash. Those things tucked deep down in the trenches, deep down where no sunshine or rain can reach…

The trenches of the human soul, or mind or psyche, I really don’t know. All I know is that those things the rain can’t wash away are the same things you can’t talk away, not even with your closest friends, sometimes not even with yourself, but there’s that itching need to get them out, and you just can’t do it for the life of you…

So,  you try to find a way to put them out thee for the world to see. Some way, using metaphors like rain and occasional photos to express a story whose details are a mystery to everyone but you, hoping that someone will understand yet at the same time hoping they won’t, perfectly aware of the paradox.

And you deny, and you pretend, and you rationalize, but in the end you know you have to live with it, because no rain can wash it, no matter how many winters pass by.


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