The rain hasn't stopped falling since morning. Now it's 10 pm and the air feels damp and cold. Just how I like it. I figured it might be the right time to continue reading my Sherlock Holmes novel but football players videos distracted me. I am pretty much football deprived. Blame the International Break. I miss watching David Silva in sky-blue jersey weasels his way among midfielders and defenders to give assists to any strikers in another sky-blue jersey. In short, I miss watching Manchester City play.
It feels somewhat sinful writing that sentence considering the fact I was (am?) a Manchester United fan for as long as I could remember. And then I found Man City's Youtube channel, and all hell broke loose.
Now it's 10 pm and I'm alone in my room with light turned off. The darkness, the cold air, me and laptop doing my own thing, it almost feels like a meditation, a recharge for a tired introvert.
For the lonesome heart.
For the worried mind.
For the angry perfectionist.
For the friendly shy Ravenclaw.
Let the night eat my troubles away.
I will be here hiding in its dark comfort.
Knitting stories, creating magic.
Drown in the majesty of my own little universe.
And today I still let my hair grow long.
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