The cyclops moon does not blink in the foggy night. Its soft bright beacon of watch does not falter in the dense air, it does not diminish with the rush of the city, it does not flash with the focus of a new trend. Steady and stern the giant eye in sky keeps peaceful watch over the tenacity of the ants below, we mutually dance in energetic excitement of the Mr. Moon and his charismatic gaze.
Messing up, having bad ideas, going the wrong way on a one way street. Making concise failures, having the abstract not the concerte, admitting the foolish thoughts.
Having the most humiliating moments in your life, thoset “I wish nobody saw that but everyone did” moments force you to remember that yes people do and will forget. At some point, they will forget the worst thing you ever made, just like how people forget the worst pimple you ever had. Because everyone makes mistakes. If you are not making mistakes then you are not trying hard enough. If you capture the stars on the first round, then maybe you should aim for the moon, or mars, whatever is your ambition. I am from the moon, so I aim for Saturn’s rings. Although I am terrible at basketball, why did I ever pop that shot?
Point being, people remember your spirit, not your actions. Impression is made with invisible sounds, not always with physical acts.
Talents is louder than words, actions are louder than moments.
The dark world is comforting with its constant midnight hug. I miss the sun but the forever night is appealing with the bright glowing lights. This warm yellow light in inviting with its lazy glow. The slow and constant wintertime rains feels like staying under the covers for the whole day, comfortably hiding from the outside world. There is something magical about the mystery of the long moonlight. Something provocative about the deep black, something charming about the abyss of black holing you stead fast in a cozy embrace.