Perfect Days: A beautiful window into simplicity

This is now my favourite movie in existence. Nothing happens.

It spoke to every corner of my beautiful saudade existence. The quiet black-and-white film photographer. The komorebi wonderer. The craving for a simple existence. A bed that is nothing but a foldable blanket. Just comfy enough to get a enough sleep on and small enough to be folded away into the corner of the room. With a bookshelf at arms length away from your bed, that holds the most precious almost a6 books. Just glorious. To wake up to the sound of my neighbour brushing the street. To have the luxury of getting to clean the toilets for people who could enjoy them after. To move around the business of town in nothing but a compact van and a few cassettes.

This movie was everything but was also nothing. It spoke to so many corners of my soul without uttering many more words than Chaplin. Just absolute awe through the whole film. So much so that all I wanted to do when I got home was clean my room, sit on a pillow, and read a book with the sun poking through the window.