n. the feeling that something is so delicate and seemingly too perfect for this world
n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.
n. the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm, listening to waves of rain pattering against the roof like an argument upstairs, whose muffled words are unintelligible but whose crackling release of built-up tension you understand perfectly.
n. the act of throwing someone out of the window
n. the realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore—that although you thought you were following the arc of the story, you keep finding yourself immersed in passages you don’t understand, that don’t even seem to belong in the same genre—which requires you to go back and reread the chapters you had originally skimmed to get to the good parts, only to learn that all along you were supposed to choose your own adventure
adj. a time in the past where things were much more happier and peaceful than they are right now
n. a missing piece, a gap in something that was meant to be whole
n. the state of being unaware of what is happening around you
n. finding something—or someone truly wonderful and lifechangin without looking for it
n. the state of being infatuated with another person
adj. of utmost evil and villainly
n. the desire to be struck by disaster
n. a sleepwalker
n. homesickness to a home you can never return to, or a home that never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past
n. where most of the more poetic definitions were taken from