The rain. The passion to it.

I said i can't say that I hate the rain because in a way or two, I like it also. There's no obvious reason for this but what I wanted to tell is that the rain is something I was not really connected to but feel strangely attached to. It's like a deja vu.. Few days ago a friend incidentally suggested me that I should walk home in the rain. When I think about it, I suddenly feel surprisingly attached to the rain, having to feeling of letting the rain to embrace myself. You may think I'm a weirdo but the rain does this to me, letting me feel a sudden epiphany of the true meaning of life. Maybe I'm just a weirdo who had experienced a sudden epiphany, or maybe I'm just a weirdo. Or maybe I should stop calling myself a weirdo because everybody is a weirdo as everybody is special (genetically and personally). Maybe only people who doesn't realize the existence of others around them calls themselves weirdos. I know this is stretching to infinity but I'm saying this because I considered the possibility of it. Once again, the RAIN had given me something. This is a gift from nature, a lesson to learn from where we came out from.
“The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain.”
(the most popular American Poet in the 19th century, 1807-1882)