Random people

Random people you see on the street. I notice them. I describe them. I document them. So, here they are, I hope it will be nice to meet them.

Expectations and the inevitable downfall.

Her life has to be a certain way. She decided an unbearably long time ago what way that was. As a result, her life is burdened with expectations and everything she wanted for herself so long ago seems heavy, undesirable and unattainable. It is time to let go of those worn out dreams, to let go of those old ambitions and goals, but that, to her, seems as impossible as holding on to them.

So now she is stuck, smothered between two lives, the one she once wanted and the one she thinks she wants now. Both lives seem impossible to live. It seems impossible to live. It seems impossible to move forward, to do, to choose something, anything. It all seems impossible, pointless, cruel, unnecessary. Maybe it all boils down to the ultimate choice. Life or death. Both options are imperfect at best, there seems to be very little choice in between and you get death eventually no matter what you choose. And so she chooses life. No, she isn’t sure it is the right choice and she is scared she will never know if it was the right choice, but she chose. Good. She chose. Nothing has changed. She is still stuck. But you chose, stranger, that’s enough for now.

(Source: random-people)

The Inner Life

Her inner life is so rich that she forgets to be today what she was yesterday. Isn’t that the way it should be, stranger?

(Source: random-people)


Long walks turn into long dinners, long dinners turn into long nights. Thus is their life together. Walks, dinners, nights, accompanied by conversations. Good conversations. Deep conversations. Intelligent conversations. Conversations so delightful they are impossible to end without regrets about doing so later. So they have long walks, long dinners and long nights to postpone the inevitable. But in a sense the conversations never end, for when they are apart they carry on the conversations in their minds. ‘What would he say?’ ‘What would he reply?’ Often they have been ‘accused’ of being gay, but they aren’t. Love there is, however. Love as good, deep, intelligent and everlasting as their conversations.
"Sometimes I wish we were gay."
"I know, me too."
If only you could choose, strangers. You would make a wonderful couple.

(Source: random-people)


At times she feels hopeless and at times she feels hope, and in between, if she’s lucky, there’s a blissful kind of nothingness giving her time to rest. Rest is necessary, because both hopelessness and hope are tiring feelings to have, especially when, some days, they alternate so rapidly it makes her wonder whether it is possible to feel hopelessness and hope at the same time. It might very well be possible, after all, she feels both too old and too young, both too dreamy and too serious. And she thinks life is both too long and too short and she finds herself thinking both too much and too little. Contradictions are everywhere around her, within her and probably within other people as well. Maybe hopelessness makes her feel hope and hope makes her feel hopelessness. Maybe they bring each other about. Maybe she can’t feel one, without also feeling the other. Do you think that’s true, stranger?

(Source: random-people)

The clouds are still there

All her loses show her what she still has left. She still has her love for reading, her wonderful secondhand books and plenty of tea. Her imagination is as vivid as it has always been, her mind still takes her to happier places, to places peaceful and wild all at once. Her cat is still as ungrateful and as darling as she has always been. At times she still dreams of Oscar Wilde. Dreams so funny she wakes up from her own laughter every time. The clouds are still there, ever changing. And she is still herself, maybe just a little sadder and somewhat quieter than before. But that’s alright, because her mind is loud still and her nose wrinkles when she laughs much like it has always done. There is much she can lose, but not these things. These things will always be there, and that means she will always be fine in the end. A safe feeling, isn’t it, stranger?

(Source: random-people)