the little unnoticeable things that slip through the cracks. i used to want eyes that videotaped and ears that recorded everything that passed by. details, tiny details like the way you blow that piece of hair out of your eyes. the way he picked up a piece of lint from the fabric that clung to his belly. the way she stood so close to him in line at the supermarket, following his footsteps with hers, so close, a little too close. moments, brief moments, so brief that you barely notice them. but if you put the world on slow motion, you'd see them all. freeze frame. see it? see it now?

seize the day, they say. live each moment as if it's your last. it's such a daunting task, when i think about it. like, sitting here right now, typing these words, what could i be missing?