Nash

A strangely beautiful thing just happened: I took a cigarette from the pack with one already on my lips. It’s like looking for your glasses with them on your nose - usually the kind of thing you just dismiss with a smile, ascribing it to some typical absent-mindedness or some extraordinary weariness.

For me, though, it’s like a performative monument to something remarkably human. I just don’t know exactly what. Whether it’s the effortlessness with which our mind splits into different planes of reality absolutely disregardful of each other. Or rather the impressive amount of reality that, no matter how close and tangible, just goes by completely unnoticed.

And then again, maybe it’s both.