9:34am - First look at watch - Will not get up yet

10:30am - Mobile ringing - "Hello! This is [generic name here] from [generic store here]. Your product's arrived!" Ok, maybe it's time to get up after all...

For a second post, here's a comment on mornings-after in general. No, not THE morning after, just a morning, after something.

So, whatever happens in the night before has probably been emphasized by the simple fact that it happened at night. A curious phenomenon, to say the least, but also something that may vary depending on the level of boredom offered throughout the day.

Let me open a bracket here...

People need intensity. Living in pastel tones may work for some, but it also leaves nothing of whatever was lived. And what is a life but the opportunity to collect memories? There's nothing at the end, so we might as well make something out of the way there. For this to happen, moments need to be unique in some way - for what happened, when it happened or how it happened. Which brings me back to the beginning of the bracket - uniqueness comes with intensity in a grand number of times.

That bracket closed, we go back to the original thought - the morning after.

Intensity probably requires an enormous amount of energy from the universe, because it quickly fades away. The morning-after just goes to show how the strong feelings that were present before can be so easily overcome. A night's sleep, a chore, just about any routine event is capable of dragging us back to the pastel pallette. This, of course, considering there are no physical marks (aka, scars) left from that oh-so-unique moment. Maybe this is our chance to rethink our moments and think about what we're doing with the pallette of intense colors that becomes available to us. Are we making what we live look just like any old blob of paint? Are we thinking before mixing colors? Or is it just coming naturally and creating an amazing combination of hues?

We don't have time to think too much, but we can't go back and redo things either.