While watching the football match I could hear the sound of rain, dropping on the cooler outside the window.
. . .

I’ve opened my bedroom’s window. The smell of rain has occupied all the room. It reminds me of “Rain” by Jose Feliciano.
. . .

After a few minutes:
Now the drops of rain sound like strikes of a hammer on my head. That’s all because somebody has turned me off. When I feel somebody is taking my privacy from me, or is deciding for me what to do, I become angry as hell. When I am writing something and somebody comes and disturbs my peace, I go mad. And when I go mad I should be just left alone till I gain my lost self control back.

Anyways, Listen to the falling rain. . .

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