My Not So Perfect Life

Every time you see someone's bright-and-shiny, remember: They have their own crappy truths too. Of course they do. And every time you see your own crappy truth and feel despair and think, 'Is this my life?', remember: It's not. Everyone's got a bright-and-shiny, even if it's hard to find sometimes.

Because it’s human nature to hope for impossible things.

This is the trouble with meeting people in real life: They don’t come with profiles attached.

I think I’ve finally worked out how to feel good about life. Every time you see someone’s bright-and-shiny, remember: They have their own crappy truths too. Of course they do.

I had a choice: Follow my heart or don’t break his. I think in the end I broke a bit of both our hearts.

Whoever started the rumor that life has to be perfect is a very wicked person, if you ask me.

Take your future into your own hands. Make it happen. Life is a coloring book, but you have the pens.

Have you ever shaken up a compass and seen the arrow whirling around, trying to find a place to settle?” says Alex abruptly. “Well, that’s my brain. It’s all over the place.

Commuting in London is basically warfare. It's a constant campaign of claiming territory; inching forward; never relaxing for a moment. Because if you do, someone will step past you. Or step on you.

It’s funny how life works like a seesaw: Some things go up while others plunge down.

Stuff that balances out the bright and shiny, just like there is for all of us. Bright and shiny on the one side, the crappy truth on the other. I think I've finally figured out how to feel good about life. Every time you see someone's bright and shiny, remember, they have their own crappy truths too. Of course they do! And every time you see your own crappy truth and feel despair and think, "Is this my life?" Remember, it's not. Everyone's got a bright and shiny, even if it's hard to find sometimes.

Bloody heads and hearts, never match up, do they?

Then, on impulse, I scroll back through my previous Instagram posts, looking at the photos of London cafes, sights, drinks, and smiling faces (mostly strangers). The whole thing is like a feel-good movie, and what's wrong with that? Loads of people use colored filters or whatever on Instagram. Well, my filter is the “this is how I'd like it to be” filter. It's not that I lie. I was in those places, even if I couldn't afford a hot chocolate. It's just I don't dwell on any of the not-so-great stuff in my life, like the commute or the prices or having to keep all my stuff in a hammock. Let alone vanilla-whey-coated eggs and abnoxious lechy flatmates. And the point is, it's something to aspire to, something to hope for. One day my life will match my Instagram posts. One day.

They maintain this guilty, defiant refusal to engage: I know you’re out there; I know it’s awful and I’m safe inside, but I suffered too, so let me just read my Kindle without bloody guilt-tripping me, OK?

Have you ever shaken up a compass and see the arrow whirling around, trying to find a place to settle? Well, that's my brain. It's all over the place.

I had a choice: Follow my heart or don’t break his. I think in the end I broke a bit of both our hearts. Which

It's amazing how an otherwise intelligent person can become a credulous fool as soon as you mention the words “organic,” “authentic,” and “Gweneth Paltrow.

So I'm biding my time, like a surfer waiting for a wave. I'm pretty good at surfing, as it happens, and I know the wave will come. When the moment is right, I'll get Demeter's attention. She'll look at my stuff, everything will click, and I'll start riding my life. Not paddling, paddling, paddling, like I am right now.

And the truth is, the country is very cool. It’s absolutely the new town.

It’s amazing how an otherwise intelligent person can become a credulous fool as soon as you mention the words “organic,” “authentic,” and “Gwyneth Paltrow.

no one seems to socialize at all. Unless you count working late as “socializing.

And the point is, it’s something to aspire to, something to hope for. One day my life will match my Instagram posts. One day!

I think, if Demeter had to put her religion down on a form, she’d put Organic.

She has amazing eyebrows. Some people are just granted amazing eyebrows, and she’s one of them.

So why do they hope ?' I can't help asking. 'Because it's human nature to hope for impossible things.

That girl is going to go far. I have no idea in which direction- but she'll go far

Sometimes I worry my ideas might dry up', he says, an odd tone to his voice. 'I'm not sure who I'd be without them. Sometimes I think I'm really just an empty vessel floating about, downloading ideas and not much else.

I still remember Mum. Kind of. I have dim splashes of memory like an unfinished watercolor.

I think I've finally worked out how to feel good about life. Every time you see someone's bright-and-shiny, remember: they have their own crappy truths, too. Of course they do. And every time you see tour own crappy truth and feel despair and think: Is this my life...? You should remember: it's not. Everyone's got a bright-and-shiny, even if it's hard to find sometimes.