It's the smoke that rises from my dampened cigarette to form a tunnel to the stars. It's the rain that splashes on my cheek like all those forgotten wishes that are falling falling falling. Sometimes I think that emotions are cast away to the sky and bottled up in raindrops that kiss you so many years later. And sometimes I think that such a simple afternoon like that was the best one I ever had. And I had it every week. What is it about rain that feeds your feelings and makes you think that there was never anything bad. Your memories are like the warmest blanket on the couch and I'm dying to wrap myself up again.