Montpellier (France), afternoon
Working on a paper. I want to go to the sea...but it seems that here none cares about going to the beach (too hot, too many people, too small beach....whatever)...so if I find my way, I will go alone.
I was listening to a song of the Editors while I was writing. In the song there is a sentence:
Every piece in your life will mean something to someone
And I was thinking. Is that true? most of the time I think that every piece in my life means something to me (more or less, sometimes actually doesn't make sense to me either)....I am not sure it means actually something to someone else...of course, sometimes it does...but the majority of pieces in my life, I think don't mean something to someone else except me.....
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Maybe because every piece of your life means something to you and shapes you in some way. You touch people's lives -- the you that's made up of all those little pieces. Perhaps in that way everything in your life means something to someone else??
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