Today while standing outside of Sweetheart Cafe, I was looking around at the surrounding buildings and the sky... and for some reason I felt like I was trapped in a box. Like, you know how they say the sky's the limit? It felt almost like the sky was a covering draped over the top of some box I was standing in. It felt... weird.

I feel like in a lot of ways, Berkeley is a box. You grow so accustomed to walking around here, stuck in the everyday routine of your life that you start to forget what life is like outside of the box. You might hear about events going on in the outside world, but since you can't see them directly in front of you, they don't feel real to you.

That thought got me onto the topic of what it meant for things to be real even when you aren't seeing them. Something akin to what Clarissa thought of in Mrs. Dalloway. There's an extra level of a person that exists outside of the part of them that you see momentarily as you walk pass them during the day. They have a life that exists outside of the world that you immediately see, the world that you live in. Like entirely different realities... that intersect momentarily at the moments that you meet each other. So even though certain things don't feel real to me because I'm not experiencing them myself, they certainly are real for other people. That is their reality.

It just came to my mind how closed my reality is. There's so many little things I'm missing out on right now by just sitting here... I need to get out of my bubble more often. See people. and stuff.

I also need to put more time into my reflections, but I haven't been putting that much into them lately. Too much venting, too little creativity. I'm looking forward to the upcoming weeks.