Life is not real life.

I’ll start this off for with this word I learnt.

sonder (n.)

the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and as complex as your own.

So, let’s rush through this story.

The other day I witnessed an accident. Kind of in slow motion, two jajes collided — one carrying passengers, the other not. (Max carrying, John not, for storytelling’s sake). Everyone got up off of the tarmac with no visible injuries.

While I wouldn’t blame the accident on either one of them, cause jajes are gonna jaj, Max goes on to grab John by the collar and hits him. Once. Twice. Three times. The man he’s hitting keeps his arms at his sides.

All this is happening at the traffic lights, so most cars are stopped, watching the exchange. People are shouting out of their vehicles for the man to stop— he doesn’t.

While he slows down the punches due to public demand, the rider he’s hitting sits down on the tarmac in the middle of the intersection looking dejected, his head in his hands, with a healthy fistful of his shirt still in Max’s hand. Sonder.

Gratitude is a word that really used to piss me off (remember how the letters add up to 100? Ugh🙄) because it felt like people threw it at me without the slightest idea what was actually going on in my life. Maturing is realising that sometimes gratitude is the only thing standing between me and total madness. Yes, it takes conscious effort, but is a lot cheaper than therapy.

I read somewhere that at any one point in your life, about a billion people would trade places with you.(Hm)

Man, I guess practice gratitude if you want.

(Oh, that’s attitude, my bad. Don’t even get me started on this one.)