via Reuben Inocando, Pressroom PH
A post what I saw
“Sana umulan para suspended.”
It’s something people say — casually, playfully —
hoping for dark skies and flooded streets.
Because for some, rain means rest.
Rain means no classes.
Rain means a break from stress.
Rain, for them, is comfort.
But not everyone feels the same.
Not everyone looks at the rain and finds relief.
Some people look at the sky and silently pray for it to stop,
some watch the clouds gather with quiet fear.
For them, rain doesn’t mean comfort,
It means another sleepless night,
It means moving furniture to higher ground,
It means carrying their children through muddy water, again.
While others laugh and wait for the next announcement,
someone else is shivering beneath a roof full of holes,
hugging themselves as the cold seeps into their bones.
While some enjoy coffee, blankets, and a reason to stay in bed,
others are outside, trying to save what little they have left —
their soaked pillows, their wet clothes,
their half-eaten meals floating in the water,
their home slowly turning into a river.
Because not everyone finds peace when it rains.
Not everyone feels warmth when the world turns gray.
Not everyone can afford to lose another night of sleep,
not everyone gets the comfort others have been given.
For some, rain is a reason to relax.
For others, it’s a reason to cry.
There are people who survive storm after storm,
whose lives are ruined every time someone wishes for floods
without knowing what floods truly take.
There are children who fear the sound of heavy rain,
because it means another day of wet notebooks and empty stomachs.
Not everyone is in the same situation.
Not everyone shares the same comfort,
not everyone calls the rain “rest.”
Not everyone survives what others casually wish for.
