Writing a diary entry is easy. Start it with how u thought it may rain in the morning. Finally u went out (for work/office/school. whatsoever) and it started raining when u were still on the way to ur destination. Write what u felt, how was everything going on in the rain. write whether you liked the rain or not. If yes, what u did to enjoy the rain and if no, how u managed to escape from the rain and then also u were wet. Add some points on how u returned home, etc. and u are done...
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Today is one of my favorite types of days: Rainy with a 100 percent chance of more rain. Something about rain drops hitting the windows of my house is incredibly calming. It's almost like I'm sitting underneath a waterfall, protected by my own home. When you stare out of a window, it looks grey and dreary at first. The sky looks dark, everything is drenched, the fields are muddy. To me, it's a break -- a break from perfection. It's a break from all of those perfect, sunny days, from all of the day-to-day activities. It's an excuse to stay at home (dressed in PJs, of course) and take-a-break-from-reality. It's a laundry day, an organizing day, an art day, a TV day, a music day, a reflection day, a sit-on-the-couch-with-your-dogs day, a day to write about rain. As I reorganize my room (this process has been going on all year), I stumble across old memories. I read my journals and diaries, filled with stories I wrote as a proud elementary schooler, and can't help but smile. They possess my home made dictionaries, book of inventions, adventures and experiences. Journal entries about my messy room (how things never change), zebra spies, trapping zoids (if you ever wondered how the word 'trapezoid' came to be) and tips for the future. It was the imagination of a nine-year-old at its peak. There are envelopes filled with old letters, even 14 love songs a boy wrote me for Valentine's Day in the eighth grade. I see old photos hiding in between books on my bookshelf, pictures of me with my two brothers, probably taken a decade ago.
ome of the happiest days of my life have occurred on rainy days. Also some of the saddest, like the days I lost my grandmother and aunt. Rain forces us to stop for a second and stare out of a window. This "stop-and-think" action creates harmony, whether we like it or not. For the few hours that it's raining, everyone is in synch for at least one second, staring at the water rushing from the sky. You can curse at it or embrace it, but you must acknowledge it. Now, the rain is forcing me to clean my room and get organized for my last summer before college. And who knows? Maybe we'll see a rainbow later
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