The world always looks like a much nicer place when it first starts getting light.
Due to a bizarre and unpredicted twist of fate, I ended up in a quintessential 'Kentish' town at just past seven am this morning, with nothing to do and no place to be until eight. I just ended parking the car in an inappropriate and slightly illegal spot to gain optimum vantage particulars.
It was one of those times when you wish more than anything that you had the artistic skills to accurately capture the way everything looks, sounds and feels at that one symphonic moment. To accurately describe the harmonious intertwining when the sky looks like a water colour of pink and blue, and just inconceivably fresh; the perfect song for that one moment creeping onto my iPod and the general sleepiness of soon to be bustling streets while the Christmas lights twinkle above you. I ended up with the almost overwhelming urge to cry. Not sure why, mind.
It's just, when it all looks serene and virginal, it's so easy to believe that life is simple.
That even though I'm usually itching to share the view with someone, being alone is preferable somehow, as it allows you to get lost in your own thoughts. It's like sitting on my windowsill when it's completely dark and you can see all the stars or walking on a tempestuous beach with the wind tugging at your hair and feeling the delicate spray of the waves on your face.
Moments that really let you know you're alive.
You see, Jess? This is why I'm terrified of going to university in September. I'm really, really weird.