Sonder: The Realisation That Everybody Has A Story
As I walked further into The streets of London something dawned on me. It was not the beauty, the strangeness, or just the usual London but the people that struck me. I looked around to see people with blonde, black, brown, and pink hair. People of all sorts, whites, browns, blacks, and yellows but each one of them was different. Each one of them was living their own life just as vivid and complex as I was. They all had their ambitions, their goals, their friends, a family, and everything I have but different. They all had their stories of how they ended up in the streets of London just around the same time as I did. Each one of them was populated with their own routines, worries, and inherited craziness. Everyone had an epic story about life in which, like an anthill sprawled deep. These roads I walked on elaborate passageways to thousands of other lines, other lives I did not know existed. And in their life I only appeared once, sipping coffee in the background, at as a blur of traffic passing on their way to somewhere . All this happened in a split second and here I am sitting at my desk smiling at the feeling of sonder, a strange feeling, years later.
