I normally derive the concepts I write about whenever I’m driving or commuting. It’s when I set my whole body on autopilot mode as I devote my active senses into surveying the candid moments of pedestrians. The scenes are brutally honest. I could see their jaded habits, shear boredom, and moderated gusto.
Why can’t it be like that all the time? Why can’t there be crucial moments where what we see is what we’ll actually get? Why do we always have to make a statement and vigorously rub the feigned merriment against the others’ faces? Why is there a need to constantly put on an act with the world as the scathing audience?
It ought to be the price to pay for becoming so good at bluffing; we get to fool ourselves in the process of misleading others. If it’s not that, then even I don’t know which facet to believe in.
Contrary to my own belief, I don’t wear my heart on my sleeves.