The stars have remained special because they live in the sky, far away from our touch. If they lived in the sand, we would mistreat them and kick them around, and they would mean nothing to us- nothing more than mere stones. We would get too used to them, and we would not appreciate them.
Love itself is a paradise-like pit; where else can anyone possibly fall into if they fall out?
They climbed out of the love you shared without you.
You felt their footsteps; you just chose to ignore it, or get used to their struggling to get out, while convincing yourself that they were drawing closer to you.
Perhaps, you simply watched them leave because there was nothing you could do. Someone was helping them get out; a paradise-like pit had been dug, an old, slightly-covered one, or a new one, out of the blue, and you never knew.
Look at the ocean, the sun, the sky, the sea. They all look so gorgeous, so deep, so spiritual, but so meaningless. The universe is full of possibilities, so much to explore, so much to experience, so much to feel, but it all just has one doomed end- death. What then is the point to be good?
I am not a good boy anymore, Dave. Stop bothering me, shallow hooman.
Oh, moon! Why are you so afraid of being with the sun now that he has asked you to? Why are you so reluctant now, if your left eye has been an eclipse since the day of your birth, and your right eye’ll remain an eclipse till the day of your death?
I see how you linger afer work to catch a glimpse of him, and how he arrives earlier than usual to catch a glimpse of you, and how you both blush beautifully when you see each other in the mornings.
Note: The eye is like a total eclipse. The pupil is the eclipse and the iris and “white” parts of the eye- the iris and the sclera- are the rest of the sky. Also, I was referring to sunrise in the “…linger after work” part…
On second thought, total eclipses are not beautiful or cute, except to the humans who watch below [social-media folks and outsiders], who may or may not know what the couple [the sun and moon] go through in reality. Realists know that whenever a sun and a moon come together, neither of the two is really happy; it results in a lot of dark times.
A moon will never be compatible with a sun. Opposites attract each other ’cause one would often be fascinated by the other, until one begins to take the other for granted, and the other begins to abuse their partner, verbally and emotionally. A business-oriented man who wants to climb the corporate ladder as quickly as possible falls in love with a union activist or a reclusive painter- a sun falls in love with a moon- and they expect to be happy if they commit to each other? Ummm… no.
…and she let out a mild giggle as she looked out the window [it’s true, the one on the other side of the train, smartass 😂]. Yes! It was finally happening.
She breathed the air in slowly, and although it was not as fresh as she had dreamt it would be, it was not that bad, plus it did not smell like hooman’s sweaty and dirty body, and his musty clothes.
“A bitch has no collar. A bitch has no owner. A bitch has no name. A bitch’s not the same. A bitch needs no bone. A bitch is, at last, on her own”, she muttered, before closing her eyes.
She thought about going to doggo- the stupid good boy’s house, kissing his butt and licking his ears, then lying down, with her back on the ground, and as soon as he came closer, releasing hot urine into his face. She giggled again.
In a world were most of us, eggs, have been taken away from our innocence, removed from the bosoms of our mothers, placed outside our crates and forced to harden up, I want to remain as I am, as I was, in this terribly hot conditions. Why don’t you remain raw with me, my darling?
Although we’ve been terribly hurt, I’ll roll to you, and you’ll roll to me, and when we do, we’ll close our eyes and swim in each other’s insides, roll in each other’s albumen, bungee jump on each other’s yolks.
Do you remember how you felt the first time you were in love? I beg you to let me love you. I’m not going to hurt you; I don’t want to. Look into my eyes. Can’t you tell that I terribly love you? Why don’t you be vulnerable too?
If the stars come together as one, they’d make a gorgeous display. If the little moons left the Moon to spread across the sky, they’d create something beautiful too. A twinkling, giant disaSTAR, and its little MOONsters.
It won’t last for long; stars aren’t built to not crave for attention. At least one would pop out of the group often and complain, “I’m not being noticed enough!”, and in no time, there’d be no group. The moons are better together as one Moon; things are good as they are.