It was a beautiful day. Some might say 'perfect'. Others would disagree, as they always tend to do. I say 'WAS a beautiful day' because as these words are read, the moments they describe have long passed. Not only that, as I experience these moments they immediately become the past, since the present moment is partly an illusion, partly our liberation. The only moment most people are ever able to experience in our dimension/universe is the present. Yet the very structure of time becomes the ideology that binds us most: segmenting and amalgamating to create a false perspective of continuity, but more detrimentally to us, of finality. Reggie Watts once sang that:

"We're only living in the memories of our future selves and its funny to think like we're here right now, but we never really are 'cuz we're somewhere in the future controlling the options, giving lots of hints to ourselves in order for us to understand that choice is still important in a world where we gotta figure some stuff out: yea".

That's a pretty consuming thought, but most don't even have the self-awareness to figure out the most basic concepts so hopefully, this alleged shift in consciousness better brings some swift wisdom to those it can and solace for those it can't. How did such dark thoughts come from such a beautifully perfect day? Because beauty is pain and nothing is perfect in life except perhaps life itself in/or the multiverse we inhabit (potentially). Always full of ups and downs like waves... of sound... of light... of energy... aka EVERYTHING! That's enough pseudo-philosophy for now. Take comfort in life's uncomfortableness.