This photo feels like fallen out of a film.
Why can’t life feel like fallen out of a film? I’ve thought of films as glorified portrayals/illustrations of [someone’s] life, but does that imply a major flaw in my perception of life or the grim reality that even the beautiful lives à la pictures in motion on a screen are just as dull and ordinary with stupid little annoyances like everyone else’s?
I wonder if there is anyone in the world whose life is genuinely perfect? And I don’t mean the “little things being wrong doesn’t affect me because on a broader scale it’s irrelevant” type perfect, but actually, absolutely perfect. Just a train of thought. Wandered off.
I’m not saying I’m not happy with my life. New place – new thoughts?
When I woke up this morning (relatively early, without an alarm, having worked late last night), the first thing I saw was a vast blue sky. And sunshine.