“Happiness of the Rain” is a true story of a song that completely changed my lifestyle. “Terra” by Rain Tongue has had quite a profound effect on me.
Exact date of even undetermined. Possibly March 23rd 2009, or March 29th/30th 2009. Probably related to EA Games and Carolyn Kingsland. This story was written a year later.
I found myself listening to it once again. It had been a short while since I last let myself listen to it. It was not easy. All my past events relating to this song were not ones I would consider productive. Yet inside of me, I felt like I was completing something. Something that very little things can do to a man. Something that was unattainable by anything physically real. This was beyond that. It was completion.
It was almost a year ago that I had discovered this band. At the time, I was discovering new bands every day with my record label. It was one sunny Saturday morning that I discovered this one. I never got past the first song. I didn’t feel like I needed to because this one was so beautiful. It was a change compared to some of the bands I had run into. But this was so intensely beautiful that I must have listened to it ten times in a row. The very next day I had already found the song and added it to my playlist, to listen to it everywhere I went.
A week went by, and the song faded from my memory, with all the new bands coming in. However, not so long after, I rediscovered the song, at a perfect moment, when my life was in question once again. A series of events had occurred where I worked and led me to force myself to forget where I was going every day. It was particularly important to me to have this song around at this time. This day, I decided to put on the song the moment I came in. It moved me in such a way, a way that I could zone out and forget the obligations of life. Forget the regrets, and convince myself that I was content. Not happy, because still the music left me melancholic, but satisfied to a point where I wanted to have this moment forever. Work was no longer in the picture.
The next morning, upon waking up, still in my computer room from the previous night, I put on the song. It was a nasty rainy day. It was grey and cold, and the song once again put me in a mood of comfort. I could not get up from my futon that morning. I was hypnotized by the comfort of the music. The external world of uneasiness was so repulsing to me that I found myself asking what the worth of going to work was. The song had me so moved and emotional that I could not convince myself to leave the house and end my current feeling. All I knew is that I wanted to keep listening to the song, forget where I was and who I was and be elsewhere, anywhere. Just so long as I didn’t remember that I was right here, in my computer room, dreading that I was not going to work, and would never go back to that job again.
It has been almost an entire year since that day now, and tonight brought to me an emotion that required the feeling of the song for comfort. I was once again in the same path. I decided to put it on to go to sleep. I could not. I then did something I had not done since living here. I opened the curtains, while still laying in bed upside down under them. This feeling inside me, a forgotten feeling I didn’t remember existed. I felt so complete. I remember thinking I could die at that very moment and feel accomplished. Like my life had served its purpose. To have listened and understood that song, and nothing else.