I have a weird habit of creating stories about strangers. Not in a creepy way — I just notice people. Someone sitting alone on a train, a woman buying the same flowers every Friday, a guy who always looks like he forgot something important. I wonder where they are going, what their apartment looks like, what song they listen to when nobody is around. Then I invent an entire life for them and completely forget about it five minutes later. The funny part is that they are probably doing exactly the same thing with me without knowing anything about me either. Maybe that is what makes cities so interesting. Thousands of completely separate lives constantly passing within a few meters of each other, never realizing how many stories are crossing paths for just a few seconds. I like being one of those invisible stories.

There are things I notice and never tell anyone about. The exact sound a familiar door makes when it closes. The way certain streets look completely different depending on the weather. A stranger smiling at their phone while standing alone. The fact that some days feel like they have happened before, even when nothing about them is familiar. I think I’m more interested in these tiny things than in anything particularly impressive. Big events are easy to remember because everyone tells you that they matter. The small ones have to survive on their own. Maybe that is why I like ordinary life more than I usually admit. Studying accounting, working, watching movies, coming home late — none of it sounds like the beginning of an interesting story. But somewhere between all those boring parts, there are little moments that feel almost unreal. I don’t know what they mean, and honestly, I’d rather keep it that way.

There is something strangely comforting about being awake when almost everyone else is asleep. The city becomes quieter, people disappear behind their windows, and even familiar places start looking like locations from a movie you somehow remember but have never watched. I like taking those moments in without trying to turn them into anything productive. Sometimes I’ll make something to eat, put on a completely random film and let it play while I stare at the ceiling. I think those are the moments when my brain finally stops pretending to have everything figured out. Maybe that sounds a little dramatic, but I like the idea that life can have scenes nobody else ever sees. No photos, no stories, no explanation afterwards. Just a tiny piece of time that belongs completely to you. If my life were a movie, I think some of my favorite parts would probably be the scenes nobody understands.

Sometimes I choose a movie because the poster looks strange. Not because it has good reviews, not because someone recommended it, not even because I know what it is about. Just because something about one picture makes me curious. I once spent an entire evening watching a movie I barely understood, and somehow that made me like it more. I don’t always need a story to explain everything. I like when there are scenes that feel unnecessary, characters who disappear without a proper ending, conversations that seem meaningless until you remember them days later. Maybe I’m just bad at watching movies normally, but I think the best ones leave a little piece of themselves somewhere in your head. You suddenly remember a hallway, a face, a sentence, the way the light looked through a window. You forget the plot completely, but somehow you still remember how the movie made the world feel.