.png)
It was a blink—no, less than that—a fragment torn from the fabric of time, but damn, what a sensation it was. A tiny ripple in the endless cosmic ocean that suddenly made the universe feel less vast, less indifferent.
In this mad theater where logic wrestles feeling, where thoughts dart like snakes in a frenzy, I stood frozen, bathed in the silver light of my full moon wish. How delightfully cruel, this moon—breaking every rule with a wink, shattering plans like they were glass underfoot.
I could have rehearsed the moment. Wiped the sweat from my brow, brushed my hair into perfect rebellion, maybe even painted my eyes to catch the light just right. But no—here I was, raw and exposed, caught in the crucible of my own chaos.
Embarrassment blazed across my face every time I visit that memory, a wildfire that refuses to die down.
In that tenacious moment, where reality slipped its tether and danced hand in hand with fantasy, I was left speechless—benumbed, caught in a void where breath and thought froze.
And yet—somehow—the smile stuck.
The absurdity of it all echoes like a stubborn refrain in my mind. I can’t, won’t let it go.
That moment clings—a shard of stardust lodged in the marrow of my being. It paints my cheeks with a blush that time cannot fade.
Between the beats of breath and thought, I remember:
Some moments are eternal. Not by length but by gravity.
They are the strange, beautiful bruises on the canvas of existence—where beauty and absurdity spin their dizzying dance.
How curious it is that the smallest flashes wield the mightiest power—bending time, twisting the self into something new.
The universe, in its infinite jest, gifts us these sparks—ordinary on the surface, extraordinary in their wake.
And we—changed, forever, in the quiet aftermath.
Comments
Post a Comment