I've been laying in bed staring at my ceiling for the past two hours. It's so dark in my room that I literally would fail to find my own ass with my bare hands. I love the darkness. The flash of light before the loud thunder shakes my house to the core. I love the coziness of my bed and the amount of fluff that I'm just now no ringing covering me from head to toe. I love the rain. The pitter-patter on the window has never sounded so sweet in my life. And the best thing is that it's Sunday. I can lay here all day and ponder in my thoughts. I can think about the movie I watched last night, Mad Max. I can think of the Game of Thrones season finally I'm going to watch tonight. I can think about the book I'm reading now, Cheyenne Amber, and all the Wild West and Native American traditions I long to live by. I can think about my new favorite song, We Can't Stop by Miley Cyrus. There's just so much to a good ole rainy day. There's no telling what can come of it. I love the rain and the thunder and the feeling that the only think keeping you safe from a drenching cold is the safety of a window.