Today felt like the sky forgot how to stop crying. The rain poured with a kind of intensity that made everything look softer and blurrier, like the world was being washed clean for a fresh start. On my way to school, the downpour was already relentless—huge raindrops, sweeping winds, puddles forming faster than footsteps could avoid them. It was one of those days when even the air felt cold enough to settle into your skin.
But I was lucky.
On days like this, a little kindness feels ten times warmer.
I bumped into a couple of bus drivers I knew, and without hesitation they offered me an umbrella. Such a simple thing, yet in that moment, it felt like receiving a shield from the storm—both literally and emotionally. As I walked across the soaked pavement, the rain smacking against the umbrella like little drumbeats, I felt oddly grateful for the chill and chaos around me.
By midday, the cold breeze had me craving something warm—something that felt like a hug. So I went straight for my comfort choice: fried tofu. Ever since that stall opened, I swear it has become my cozy-weather soulmate. Crispy on the outside, soft and steaming on the inside—it tasted even better with rain tapping on the windows and the world outside looking like a watercolor painting.
After finishing some office work and attending classes, I finally headed home. The rain still hadn’t stopped. It was almost funny—like the sky had committed to a full-day performance and refused to take a break. Watching cars glide over the wet roads, trees swaying like they were shivering, and benches sitting alone under the dark clouds… it all made the day feel a bit cinematic. A little melancholic, but beautiful in its own quiet way.
Some days are loud with sunlight.
Today was loud with rain.
And somehow, I needed that.
