My little playhouse contains the moods I possess. It is a fun place to visit on the right days, on others, not so many ways. The moods go from pole to pole with nothing in the middle but fragmented justifications for my actions. My little playhouse is both colorful and dark but it creeks in all the right places. I can spot the turmoil before it happens and choose therefor to create my own at the expense of nobody but me.
My little playhouse is on the same street as yours. We are neighbors but we have never met. We see each other in passing and even wave occasionally at one another. But that is all we share. That is what we know. Where the streets were once filled with the laughter and cries of children at play, now we have streets lined with little playhouse's filled to the brim with the moods of people and children at their rightful post; looking at the screen with all encompassing involvement. My little playhouse is brown. What color is yours?
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