Welcome to a storage space of flown away days, dried out ink of written words, where thoughts are constantly flying from here to the moon avoiding sunlight. Expect to be confused, expect to feel blues, expect to feel the cold of the Autumn rain, expect a witch who does own a broom but who does not dance with the devil, even he would love to. Do also expect rainbows, as no day is the same as the one before or the one which is heading towards us. But don't expect tranquility, serenity, a rest or a circus where clowns know how to provoke a good laugh because there are little, fragile, sensitive souls nearby, easily touched by a scratch that could traumatize. Don't expect the beauty you admire on magazine covers or on the streets or the beauty you follow yourself. Don't expect too much warmth, the window is always open during the night when it's cold, so it is at dawn. Expect what you usually don't expect but do expect. It may bring you quite far.
This is a corner where enigma can reside, where it tries to analyze and sort all events in alphabetical order, hoping the puzzle will complete and the answer soon given and I can identify me. Or either lay down and become a natural peaceful beauty. What we all will be.
Either enter and play monopoly along or follow your own rules back to your own little, eventual happy world. And forget these confusing words. Whatever chosen, goodluck.