the boiling, and the splash

All day I've been reminded of how much this tepid weather is agreeable to me. I really enjoy it. The feeling of such heat that it almost sticks to you. I think I get that feeling mostly because this kind of sensation prevents me from moving too much, thus essentially indulging my laziness. Could it really be that? shiiiiit. I thought so, 'till...
I had to walk an hour home today, across the Queensboro Bridge in the pouring rain. Was I hating it for the first half an hour. Second day in a row that I was soaked. Yet an unexpected change came over me... I enjoyed it. Getting a bucket of water poured on one from the hand of god seems a harsh reminder, but at least it was cool. I loved it, I did. Love. No matter how much heat i wanted and how every drop was warmed to my skin, i didn't even want to open my eyes anymore.
Funny how when i look back on it, the oppressive and inescapable heat, the constant reminder of the opposite element, crossing a long long bridge under duress, and.... then.... freedom. Could it be.... naaaaaa