A cold and rainy, and simply beautiful autumn morning is right outside my window. Though it's still early, I can tell from how I refuse to get out of this chair, that this will be yet another day when the cookies I meant to surprise my mother with won't be baked, my mess of a room won't be cleaned and my bird nest for hair won't be dealt with. Oh, well. Gracefully admitting defeat, I start browsing the internet. typologycentral.com. Let's see.. A Jon seems to like his name. People are still discussing how sensotarded they are. And hmm.. a thread about dream colour.
What if I were to join, instead of remaining an eavesdropper?