Tonight I peered into a stranger’s heart.

It’s full of misgivings, anxiety, lovelorn heart-strings, fanatical excitement, fleeting fantasies, receipts of tales, drunken moments of poetic expressions – and I felt wistful, diving into the scraps of travel memoirs and discorded past. There is something beautiful amidst this mess – I’ve yet to locate what – of seemingly useless bits and ends, that every item represents a personality, a character, a detail that I otherwise wouldn’t have known. Ah, to glimpse into a chaos of stories of a person’s life – but despite the questionable morality in this hypocritical act I was engaging in, unlocking a stranger’s heart left me incredibly pensive.