2024-10-21
(This is entry 18 of #100DaysToOffload)
Listening to @@[たりないeye][https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0m2mfFhUg8w].
It's easy to feel as if there is an inherent beauty in the form of a girl, or in that of a scattered bedsheet, or in the light that trickles in from the window, or in the neatly places items adorning a tabletop. Meanwhile, those thousand feathers scattering the floor have no beauty. Too obvious, too forced. The girl atop them has beauty.
And yet, it's all forced in a way. All staged. All excessive. A scattered bedsheet has beauty in real life, but not to that degree...
Much fabrication seems to slip past our eyes if presented as natural, messy. It's easier to believe; it's enjoyable to believe; it's heavenly to believe.
So much so, that the real scattered sheet atop your own bed just doesn't cut it. Maybe it's the lighting.