Little rainbow fairies on freshly washed grass. Bright green.
There are pictures in my head, very disconnected. It's rather like being an addict. Without knowledge of the addiction.
But who's complaining? It's a fairly happy state of mind, with pixies and rainbows and spring-morning-dew and flowers and the bright green grass that shocks my senses into happiness.
Plastic happiness, senseless happiness. Lovely, pretty lies.
Oh such mirth.
Excuse the inanity. I think I'm happy.