Sat in the window seat
Half awake to the world
Pen tapping on stapled sheets
JJ Grey and Mofro’s yearning refrains pervading my consciousness.
Thoughts take a backseat
Drift in and out arbitrarily
Like the fast-moving landscape
Funny how life comes to a standstill on a speeding train.


Instagram is essentially escapist. You crop out the ugly, messy bits you don’t like, frame the picture so the scenery looks more idyllic than it really is. Then you add a rose-tinted glaze over it. You put it up to freeze it in time, and superimpose maudlin memories on it so that when you look back in two weeks (two weeks are a sufficient time for nostalgia now) you have the luxury of longing for a beautiful past (that was never really there).

If only there was a way to capture the minutiae of everyday life, highs and lows all in, that doesn’t require you to be Franzen or Woolf.