Things taste different when had under starlight. And by “taste“ I mean feel, look, hear, impress.
Thoughts appear like vivid realities. We think it to be an actual possibility that we'll read all the books and then somehow learn ourselves out of being flat and predictable people.
Theaters work their magic at nighttime. So do jazz concerts. We get drunk and high when the sunlight is gone partly because we have hope during those hours that this will somehow lead unto charmingly funny stories.
Insomnia hits at night not because those are the times when we are supposed to sleep, but because they are the times when we dream the most.
Food tastes better, in spite of our knowledge about how calories kick the hardest when you don't have a number of hours of activity to burn them through.
Kissing feels less awkward. In fact, it feels sorta magical. The saliva on your chin isn't as terrible. Your Mom is less likely to recognize you if she drives through that park.
You feel thinner and your pimples tend to dissappear.
Revolution appears attainable and doesn't even scare you.
Life seems wonderful.
And then the sun comes up.
Good news: It can sometimes be pretty cheersome during the day.