Raging Storms

I love the rain, the pouring torrent, the gush of wind, the dark cloud, the raging lightning. It's simply a beautiful sight. It represented all the pent up feelings I hold up inside.  Not being able to let all those feelings out for fear of in acceptance. Society, culture and traditions dictates that one should be strong enough to bear the hardships of life, thus people are deemed weak when they let life's problems gets to them. People search for comforts trough close ones, someone they can open up too, share and relate.

Then why not share with your close ones, one might say. Truthfully, I wish I'm able to do so.  But people close to me have their own problems. Problems which made mine looks so insignificant. For it is true, if you compared them, mine will look insignificant. But what is insignificant for them does not mean its insignificant for me. When I face the same problems as them then I might say mine is nothing. But for the time being it is, at the very least for myself.

It's strange on how I'm able to give advice to people who seeks for it. Often people whom I hold dear comes to me for advice, but on the other hand I myself was unable to live trough my own advice. On how I can be strong for others, but crumbles weakly on my own. Sometimes I just wish that it would rain. That I'll run into the rain, embracing it and let out everything, let the tears drops freely, for none would be able to see it, and for the rain to wash my sorrows away.

Queer isn't it,  you make time for people precious to yourself, believing that you'll be able to be strong for them supporting them to get back on their feet. That since you've heard all those story, empathize with them, experience it somewhat that when the same problems hit you, you'll be able to brush it off and go on. It's those kinds of arrogance that indeed will bring us our downfall. For empathizing, and listening is a different side of life, as experiencing it first hands would brought us the cold reality. 

I'm going astray with everything, like the gush of wind blows clear a path or create a turmoil in the area around it. Call me weak, for I am weak. Strong for others? as long as you can't even stood up for yourself for your own, you're not being strong. You pretends to look strong to hide your weakness. I do understands that after every storm a rainbow will come to greet. But for the time being, let this storms rage in myself. For this torment, it will ends soon...