Last night, I was having the usual neurotic fixation with the moon. I was talking to her, admiring her light and beauty… but to my dismay, the clouds covered her up and it felt like the moon decided to close her doors on me. In a couple of minutes more, the rain started to fall. I guess it’s her tears… I guess it’s her way of pouring out her sadness… It must be pretty lonely up there, shining her light to people so they may find their way out of the dark night, sending romantic moonbeams to lovers in love and soothing crushed souls with her consoling silvery luminescence. It’s like the moon have these invisible arms that hug people in despair (hug me!)… but the ironic thing is that, is there someone out there who embraces her back? Is there something that consoles her as well? Does she receive appreciation with those romantic beams that she so willingly give? And this is what I’m doing. Trying to give something back to her… I maybe an insignificant speck of dust in this vast universe...
I dwell in the spaces where shadows meet light, where questions outnumber answers. A seeker of truths buried deep, I write to unearth what lies beneath the surface. In the chaos, I find my voice. In the silence, I find myself.