The average Londoner’s Monday morning consists of the same, glum, tube scene. The carriage is a wash with grey tones, only exaggerated by the dim tube lights, with the occasional splash of blue. My eyes are often drawn to these splashes of colour, this may be because it is the only colour visible in my eye sight, or maybe purely because of the irony that this ‘bright’ colour matches my mood perfectly. Whilst reading the blue ‘penalty fare or prosecution’ sign, desperately trying to avoid any eye contact, my eyes were drawn to a blue man. Although camouflaged in the sea of blue, he stood out from the rest of the miserable commuters. His splash of blue, however, didn’t leave me filled with irony because it matched my mood, it instead gave me a slight bit of excitement in my day. I can only assume his outfit choice was inspired by his excitement for a Monday morning, but who is excited for a Monday morning? The only conclusion I could reach is that me must be going to a rave. I don’t know why, how or where there would be a rave on a Monday morning, but I am certain that is the only explanation for this mans state of mind. As I watched him bounce down the platform after leaving the tube, headphones blaring, I was filled with regret for not following him. I hope he enjoyed the rave.