I Wish I Could Feel the Rain

Tell me, does the rain fall where you are? Does it sometimes come pouring down in sheets that hammer the roof above your head, even as the thunder rumbles so loudly you can feel it drum the air in your chest? And are there days when the sky is clear and cloudless, even as the droplets shower you with warmth?

It doesn't rain here.

How I wish it rained here. To feel water on my skin again, to have it drench my clothes so thoroughly they have to be peeled off with pliers, to get so soaked, my bones become waterlogged. Even if it's deathly, miserably, freezing cold, what I wouldn't give to feel something, anything, but most of all the rain in this place.

There is nothing in this place.

Except me.

Tell me, are there times when you wish you could just close your eyes and not see anything, cover your ears so you can't hear anything, numb your mouth so as not to taste anything, plug your nose so you won't smell anything, hide away where you can't feel anything? Are there times you wish you could escape somewhere where nothing else exists, no pain, no sadness, no anger, no grief? A place apart from everything?

I am there.

I see nothing, for there is nothing to see. I hear nothing for there is nothing to hear. I taste nothing, smell nothing, for there is nothing to taste or scent. But, worst of all, I feel nothing. Not my limbs, not my heartbeat. Whether I move or lie still, it makes no difference; I can't tell which it is I'm doing. I feel nothing. Not even alive.

I only exist.

hmmm....an interesting passage

cannoncomplex here,

first off, my general impression is that this piece has a sense that a character is giving his/her own perspective on the surroundings. This has been specified with the main character talking about the rain. The second impression is that this piece is inviting the reader to something yet unbknown.

That unknown and vaguesness seem to dominate the story. Though the pice indicate that the place is somehwere where there is no or little rain but aside from thatthere is seemingly a lack oif what is actually going on. Not saying that it is a bad read, i enjoyed it well. There is a strong focus on the absence of rain but little context of thye plot itself. It is a if this piece is in itself:

There is nothing in this place.

Except me

that quote seemed to have been reflected in this story. There seem to be a vacuum of events yet there is some odd mystery on its identity. What is going on? Such a question rings to the reader's mind.

Hi!

to get so soaked, my bones become waterlogged.

Do either "to get so soaked that my bones become waterlogged," or "to get so soaked, to have my bones become waterlogged," or "to get so soaked, my bones becoming waterlogged," or some other variation of that. I know, I rambling when I needn't, but eh, that happens. xD

I hear nothing for there is nothing to hear. I taste nothing, smell nothing, for there is nothing to taste or scent.

I believe you mean "smell."

Those were the only two nitpicks I found. This has a nice flow, with a welcome variation of sentences. One part I particularly like is the ending,

I feel nothing. Not even alive.

I only exist.

For this piece, I felt like you were an actual person lost in limbo - perhaps a dimension between life and death? - though I realize you are speaking metaphorically. I also feel that whether you are being metaphorical or literal, it hardly matters. Either way, you can sense the longing, especially with this last line. It is also easily relate-able - just think how many people out there feel numb, feel lifeless, feel like they aren't living, but rather are simply alive, simply soaking up air. I imagine a lot.

Sometimes I imagine I can understand why a person cuts themself (don't get me wrong, I never have nor will I ever). Because in a world that you simply follow through motions, a world too comfortable, a world where you're alive but you don't live, what wouldn't a person do to feel something, anything? At least with pain, you feel like there's meaning. But when emotions are blurred and touch is either too soft, too unreal, or almost nonexistant, not registering in your mind, what really is there? Life feels like a dream, which is simply a scrambled thing of events that don't matter and sensations that are neither sharp nor real.

So, I just feel like you portray this well. Sorry for ranting. :/

loveness, ultraviolet <3

Noooo. This is not a story. This is a navel-gazing piece of work that really has no grounding in reality and tries to hide what really is going on. See, stories generally have conflict. This doesn't. In fact, it looks like you're trying to keep us from knowing of the actual conflict. So yeah. Not a story. Not even particularly good.

Which is okay! Everybody writes stuff like this sooner or later. Just... that doesn't make it good.

Either make us care (aka, put real conflict in it) or keep this as a piece that you can look back on and laugh at when you feel discouraged.

Kinda makes you grateful for rain even though when you hate storms...

Nice description and well placed details. Really gives you a sense of how much the rain impacts our lives without us knowing. I'd write a more detailed review, but I honestly found it overall quite well. Keep up the great work.

Tell me, does the rain fall where you are? Does it sometimes come pouring down in sheets that hammer the roof above your head, even as the thunder rumbles so loudly you can feel it drum the air in your chest? You use so much description it becomes kind of clumsyAnd are there days when the sky is clear and cloudless, even as the droplets shower you with warmth? I can't feel the warm rain drops... perhaps a different description of a sun shower?

It doesn't rain here. I like how these break up your paragraphs

How I wish it rained here. To feel water on my skin again, to have it drench my clothes so thoroughly that word was perfectly placed they have to be peeled off with pliers This didn't reach me as a reader, either. Pliers indicate an unpleasant feeling..., to get so soaked till my bones become waterlogged. Even if it's deathly, miserably, freezing cold, what I wouldn't give to feel something, anything, but most of all the rain in this place.

There is nothing in this place. I like

Except me.

Tell me, are there times when you wish you could just close your eyes and not see anything, cover your ears so you can't hear anything, numb your mouth so as not to taste anything, plug your nose so you won't smell anything, hide away where you can't feel anything? Are there times you wish you could escape somewhere where nothing else exists, no pain, no sadness, no anger, no grief? A place apart from everything?

I am there.

I see nothing, for there is nothing to see. I hear nothing for there is nothing to hear. I taste nothing, smell nothing, for there is nothing to taste or scent. But, worst of all, I feel nothing. Not my limbs, not my heartbeat. Whether I move or lie still, it makes no difference; I can't tell which it is I'm doing. I feel nothing. Not even alive.

I only exist.

What I bolded in red was the beginning to a good story, but didn't belong with the passage before it. I can see that you connected them but... it just doesn't have a strong enough bind, you know? Well written, none the less.

Very good story. I really like this, and I have definitely had times that I can relate to this. You went to the darkest, more miserable part of a person's soul, and wrote it out. It was beautiful in a very dark way. Thank you for writing this.

Thanks everyone for the reviews. It's been very interesting seeing all the different ways you've interpreted this, especially since they were all different from what I was thinking when writing this.

@ultraviolet

Nitpicks = deliberate and therefore ignored. :P I'm also curious what makes you see this as being a portrayal of the emotions that are behind cutting?

@Snoink

I'm of the opinion that stories don't always need conflicts. That said, there is a conflict here, but I suppose it's more of a philosophical one than a tangible one. You might want to look up existentialism and the implications of Descartes' famous statement "cogito ergo sum" in the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.

As for the navel-gazing, not intentionally, but I suppose it is. XD And as for the grounding in reality, though there's no mention in the story, it's heavily based in my experiences with anaesthesia. Only, in my sister's words, the narrator is way wimpier/angstier than I am.

@KatTrain

That connection between the two halves bugs me too, but I can't really think of anything to transition between better. Any suggestions?

Kyll, there are two song lyrics that have made me think about the subject enough to connect this story to it.

In Taylor Swift's "Cold As You," one of the lines says "So I start a fight 'cause I need to feel something."

In Matthew West's "Through the Motions" it says "This might hurt, it's not safe/ But I know that I've gotta make a change/ I don't care if I break,/ At least I'll be feeling something/ Cause just okay is not enough/ Help me fight through the nothingness of life."

Both of those made me think that, if life really was just going through the motions, just living day to day the same, never really feeling anything new, with life just a little too comfortable, unreal like a dream, wouldn't you want to feel something? Even if that something's the pain of a razor on your arm?

This made me think of that because, like being anestheticized, you don't feel anything. You're just here. Life has no meaning and everything's a blur, without any real sensations. So why not create your own sensations? Pain is better than nothing at all.

At least, that's my theory.