i don’t need your diary of appointments followed by and then, and then, and then. i don’t need to know what you had for breakfast or what time you took your train. but if you cried into your breakfast, then yes, that i want to know. if you missed your train because you happened to be lost in a book, then tell me what that felt like instead, to be so swept away. or maybe you were busy trying to catch some good-looking stranger’s eye. tell me. tell me about those ordinary times you still remember.
we need more stories about the ordinary because i believe, living the way we do 