Back at home, there were no four seasons- there were only the dry, and the wet. Now, haunted my the sweet memory of the currently absent rain, my soul aches dearly.
The sweet patter of droplets striking not necessarily on myself- but moreso on the rooftops of our home, with each drop reminding me that I am sheltered.
Now, cursed am I by the cold and painful bites of winter frost. Although artistic- pure, in all its white glow, the cold still has no mercy for my inexperienced skin.
Rare few days does it rain here in this dry, desert city, and with that I have learned to cherish each and every drop of rain, regardless of the low temperature that acompanies American rain.
For that is the truth of life- never shall one ever see greatness at its truest until one sees the pain upon losing said greatness.
Cherish it now, I beg of thee- cherish, cherish like no other we all must. Every little bit- we all will miss them the moment they leave us.
The chirping crickets and other noises of bugs and crawlers ring my deardrum no more- I hadn't even noticed it back when I was home.
Now, the plague of pitch black nothingness deafens my ears at night.
Too many are told too late- my advice for those who learn too hard, never give up the fight for what was once cherished.
No, the solution is not to cherish a downgrade, for to cherish a downgrade will only lead to more downgrades, and when a downgrade is seen to be cherished,
one will forget the difference between good and bad. Instead, live on, fight on, to fix what one does not desire.
Strive on, and let each step one takes be a small reminder that YOU have made a choice, the choice to fight for a greater path rather than settle for what lies before you.
~Just another average guy