Perfect Life

Sometimes other people's lives look like a shop window - they shine and reflect light, as if there were no stains or cracks in them. You want to fit in there, to become another neat detail in someone else's order. But the harder you try, the more obvious it becomes that the place is already taken - by everything except real warmth. And then all that's left is to stand aside and watch as the “perfect” falls apart at the seams, as smiles crack, and fatigue shows through the polish. It's sad, but also a little liberating - to understand that you don't have to be part of every beautiful picture. Sometimes it's better to just walk away - without spoiling the composition, but finally getting yourself back.