♡ youth - troye sivan ♡
I am constantly overwhelmed by the realization that I am not the only one who is thinking, breathing, feeling, moving. What a silly thing to forget, but how often do we look at a stranger and see them as a person just like us? I’m sure most people see their hair, their clothes, their exterior. While waiting for a green light, while crossing the street, while standing next to a stranger at the coffee shop, I remember we’re all alive. I want to turn to someone I’ve never met and ask them what they love most, what they would say to the world if they could say anything, when did they know they were in love that first time. Or even what makes them cry and what keeps them up at night. I like to eavesdrop on phone calls in a waiting room, listen to conversations in passing through the woods, watch the way lovers look at one another, memorize strangers’ laughter, pick up paper on the ground hoping it has passionate words written all over it (usually it’s just homework or a receipt), watch the way friends walk in sync with one another… And who are we to each other? Someone I’ve seen many times walking up the hill with long blonde hair will smile at me and I want to pull him aside and ask him what he thinks his purpose is. At a red light, a stranger and I both have our windows down, so why don’t I shout a question to her? Why don’t I ask her what she thinks happens when we die? What if I made a last minute decision that changed my entire life? What if I woke up late for class and didn’t get the chance to buy a blueberry muffin that day, so I didn’t get the chance to meet that person behind me in line? Maybe this person would have taught me what I needed to know, but I was too late. Maybe they would have smiled at me and asked me something. Imagine how different the world would be if we were always present enough to realize the life in this world around us, and be open to it.
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