Why do I always feel like the hands I interlock in front of me, and the elbows on my knees, and the eyelids that go down, and up, and down, and up, don't belong to me. Sensation is such a beautiful and strange thing if you think about it.
I'm trying to be happier, like choose happiness. I figured that, for myself, I have to redefine happiness; in light of my obscured perception of joy, and the sensation therein. I'm finding something out though. I'm a little excited about it. For me now, happiness is very discretionary. It's a little hard to explain so bear with me. Happiness occurs very arbitrarily recently: A moment of haphazard eye contact with a stranger on the bus, or a stranger utters a word from their beautiful lips and I kind of fall in love with them for just a minuscule moment, or a frozen juncture in the ocean where it's enough for me that there is an ocean, and trees, and turtles.
Hopefully I'm being understood.
I am starting to realize that my expectation for the world is totally off, and that is the root of my problem. I've accepted that life is never a painting for life, uh... let me try again: Life will never feel how you want it to look in a picture (like on instagram) and that's something I've been letting guide me recently.
Whatever.
“People don't realize that the future is just now, but later.”
-Russell Brand
-Russell Brand
(a Revolutionist)
"Life will never feel how you want it to look in a picture"
ReplyDeleteThis gave me a whole new perspective on what life is really all about. It's not about the grand picture of things, its about the little moments that catch you off guard. Thanks.
You blog is a gold mine.