Rainyhead.

Morning rain, the wet sky glows a bright gauzy white. Trees with leaves in all different shades of green sway, birds fly around. I sit in my chair by the window listening to the rumbling thunder while muching away on mayonise-and-tomato sandwhiches. Rain makes me feel all glowy inside, not a bright glowy, a soft mellow sort of glowy. It makes me feel poetic and filled with slow, beautiful but undefined thoughts. Not thoughts, feelings rather. Curling up with a Poirot novel, licking chocolate off my fingers with intermittent flashes of lightning behind the clouds gives me a strangely peaceful and contented feeling.
I listened to some old Westlife albums lying forgotten in my computer. They're beautiful. :)