It hasn't stopped raining in twelve hours now...

I wish I could put this feeling in words. This inordinately sullen yet ecstatic, fresh yet routine feeling that keeps recurring in my thoughts and urges all five senses to rush outside and hug the run. yEs. Hug it with all five!

Its transformed my formerly vacant-looking window into an opening to the "secret garden" where theres much in store for everyone. Theres the ever-present drip-drop sound of water tickles (rain drops) and the wet street light.. and in my garden...the dripping wrought iron chairs that have now come of age, so much so that even its owners think twice before seating themselves on 'em =]

I've never been able to come to a decision as to the "right" kinda music to listen to when the weather is perfect...

I don't know..no matter how low I feel..the rain seems to be calling out to me..to join the race..to pick up the broken pieces..to join lost ends to their beginnings...to start over..to start afresh...

I cannot seem to even conceive this mystery in full...What is it about rain?

Howcome I'm not sick of it yet? Why is it that I gaze at it for hours but there is still another minute of mystic pleasure to it?

Got to go catch the last slice of Pizza from the Kitchen! At least I know the right kind of food to eat ;]