Do you like how everything is so prettily filtered on (most) Instagram accounts?

That a bruised knee and spilled bowl of cereal comes off as amusing with the addition of a witty caption and a few emoticons, that the picture of that couple with their fingers intertwined and looking into each other's eye adoringly almost like they're making a silent pact to be branded Couple Of The Year was posted when arguments were at the highest peak and it was done almost out of desperation to mitigate the anger, that the plate of French Toast doused in honey, glazed with cinnamon, adorned with strawberries sliced at a perfect angle never ever tastes quite as good and even if it does no one can quite handle that diabetic-inducing dish all on their own, that the tightest clique of friends only look up from their phones long enough at lunch dates to arrange themselves for a group photo,

What if, your words are exactly that. 

Pastries and sandwiches thrown haphazardly on a plate because it was my first meal of the day, bad picture but good day. 

So, I'd been listening to The Script's Six Degrees of Separation a lot.

I'm not highly sensitive (quite the contradictory actually lol)

Yes blue skies are a good sign if you plan on going for a hike, fluffy clouds, maybe not, oh really that wisp of cloud with a slightly red tinge in the far distance conjures up feelings of melancholy in you, does it remind you of that painting by that great Frenchman uh huh, if you're about to cry over some cloud, can we do it in Starbucks where it's air-conditioned??

JK.

But really, I wish I could be more appreciative over artwork (I will never spend on pieces with 5 digit price tags nopes I'm getting Instagram posts blown up along with captions and likes) and music (300 times on replay on Spotify and I wouldn't be able to identify the song or artist on the radio a few hours later)

(I think haikus are adorable though does that count)

(is it even legal to describe haikus as adorable?)

Anyway, had this particular song in my phone since I last synced it with iTunes (year 2013) and it never left a lasting impression until the past week.

Tone down the desperation here by a few degrees and maybe it's slightly relatable.

I think the word 'desperation' comes up at least 8 times here and I bet it's only because it rhymes with separation.  *moment of clarity

We all know what The Scripts are getting at, the broken-hearted, slowly but surely dying a painful heartbreak.

I don't know, if I were 17 again I'd roll my eyes and scorn and throw up a bit.

Maybe now, I have the tiniest bit of respect to not do so.

So I wrote this post because I spent quite a bit of my time analysing the lyrics to a song instead of articles related to my Criminal Law assignment.

if my assignment group mates happen to stumble upon this post I'm struggling 

JK.

Getting there. 

some sunset.

I sometimes think that the magnitude of my problems is so huge, even when it subsidies it should leave a deafening silence, a wasteland of rubble, barely any survivors, you know, on par with the aftermath of any natural disaster. Because that's how bad I regard them to be.

(my mum has mastered the perfect expression of a cross between amusement and indifference ever since I had panic attacks about my weight at the age of 12 - I was a few dress sizes below a UK 0 after ice-cream for dinner, and dinner was 3 times a night then and I was convinced that I was obese based on this ill-founded belief that the circumference of my thighs shouldn't increase from the age of 8 onwards)

(now I could substitute every meal for carrot sticks and I still balloon up enough to fit into clothes on the discount rack)

(and we allllll know what's left on the discount rack)

Or even if not to that exaggerated extent, I have expectations for the world to be slightly different, not the same traffic standstill in Subang (definitely not the 'WHY ISN'T LIFE STOPPING I AM DYING HERE' sort i envision), the exact same cats planting themselves at your front gate and greeting you with the same furious glares, the same struggle to strategically plant myself in a corner of the university's lift to avoid being smothered by backpacks and armpits.

I like to think that if your problems aren't so terrible as to sway the outside world even by the tiniest bit (humour me and pretend that this makes sense because my next line will blow you away)

it shouldn't stop you from picking yourself up and moving on.

If that isn't mind-blowing I hope the unfiltered picture below is

I once said 'I don't think I'd ever fully appreciated a sunrise because sunsets are all that matter, and it's a relief that the day is about to end'

(say it in this annoying squeaky humorous tone and it isn't even dark at all)

I'm getting through this phase.

:)