I feel the need to write.

And it's quite a lovely feeling, I must say, I've missed it. This is inspiration with out inspiration. See, I have an urge to write, but what I'm is just writing down my train of thought, just the slightly modified words that enter my head. Or exit it. I'm not really sure about that. It's also rather cold at the moment. (Again, for too many people.) My hands have acquired that odd, yet amusing slightly-purple-ish-but-still-skin-coloured shade.
The autobiography of Stephen Fry is on my table, but I'm not going to read it until I finish the previous book. The reason for this is making the latter task easier. Knowing Stephen, (I really don't), I'd get too submerged in his humor to pay a respectable amount of attention to M.S.H.K., for short. Betcha won't guess what. &.&
I've also promised to make an Angel Food Cake with someone, and I sincerely intend to keep this promise. I think it was to myself. It might have been to him, too, but I'm not that sure about that, either.
There. A sweater. Much better.
Here I must go, but I seem to keep returning and adding or changing bits of this.
Let's see if I can find you guys something visually or musically pleasing while being worthy of this thought. ...hum. I Didn't want to choose this one, but then I decided that not to could possibly be unfair. Besides, I found almost exactly the kind of version I wanted. (-except for the missing end.)
And, it's a beautiful song.

(Crash Test Dummies - "Mmm Mmm Mmm")