The 'Good' to my 'Morning'.

I’m definitely waking up at 5:30 tomorrow for a jog: an archetypal, apathetic dialogue that imposes a self-satisfying hush to my every night. However, the shades of the dark wash away that hush the next day and a new morning stretches outside my snuggly cubbyhole. October 12, 2010, however, was a marvel.

Thankfully my alarm is not a pitched, piercing, unbearable buzz. It’s merely a resonance that manages to open my eyes at the go. The only difference today morning was that my eyes did not shut back.

There is nothing unwritten about early mornings that has not already been travelled around. It’s the day’s youth; where every sprig and flower is wet of the opaque smog. The roads appear longer and thought-provoking. It’s the time when every turn introduces a new stranger and a familiarity starts to spring, even if only lasting that turn.

The daybreak peeps through yesterday’s night and slowly weaves into today. Its not magical. It’s the everyday that we sleep through. There was no traffic, not a lot of people, no irksome noises. Just a lovely silence.

It was over a two-kilometer brisk walk with my dad, and by the time we ended, the playlist in my i-pod was still running at ‘A’. It will be B’s turn tomorrow. I hope.