I was in my room, sitting in front of my laptop, typing:
"
when you follow you heart the pain will follow you.
when you follow the body the consequences follow you.
what if you follow nothing just move with the flow then the emptiness follow.
"
I was bored and depressed, regretting the many things I had done in the past. Even though I know nothing will change, it still spoils my present. Maybe I'm too lazy to do anything, but here I am, writing. This is so complicated.
I crave for someone to tell me it's alright and hug me tight.
I think I'd better sleep. Sleep seems to be the only thing that helps me forget my regrets. Maybe, just maybe, in a dream, I'll find someone. That's a big MAYBE, though.
I lay myself on the bed, closing my eyes and letting my body go limp like a puppet with cut strings. My thoughts drift as I fall in the asleep in a position where the first ray of sunlight will slap my butt. Maybe it's not the position—it's just that the sun has a wicked sense of humour. Or maybe the sun is gay.
What am I even writing?
The sun isn't gay; he's in love with the moon (or moons). The loveliest scene is an eclipse, where they hug each other, A union of day and night. A love story that's told in shadows and light. And then, they wait, patiently, for the next eclipse, for the next touch, the next meeting.
Science nerds would laugh at me for this, telling me the sun and moon are so far apart and that the moon is insignificant compared to the sun. A mere dot. But I don't care. I like the way I think, and that's my reality.
Yeah… it's kicking in… sleep.
Darkness creeps over my eyes. It feels like sitting in a movie theatre during the moments of silence before the film starts when the screen is black but full of possibilities.
zzzZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzz…
Moon: Seems like he's asleep at last. He likes to trash-talk about my husband, the sun. I'll let it slide. My children, the stars seem to enjoy his dreams.
(The Moon smiled, a soft curve of light tracing her face as she watched over the dreamer. The stars glittered in response; tiny sparks of joy scattered across the endless black.)
One little star asked if he had started to dream.
"Not yet, my child," the Moon replied gently. "He's still too lost in his sadness."
Hundreds of stars gathered, eagerly waiting for Mama to tell his dream.
Each twinkled in anticipation, their light shimmering with curiosity.
Among the hundreds of stars,
One glow a peculiar blue, her glow dimmed as she gazed at his sad face.
Her heart ached for him. She quietly approached her mother, the Moon, with hesitant steps
"Mama," she asked softly, "can I go to him?"
Mamma, you know what are you asking, right?
"Yes, Mama, I know it. it's like something is pulling me to him." the star said.
Moon smiled "You're a big girl now, it's time to follow you hearts." She paused, then nodded.
Moon: "Go and give him what he lost. Go and give him the best dream of his lifetime."
Thank you, mamma.
With that, the little star transformed into a shooting star, falling toward his mind. her trailed light spread magic across the sky, granting silent wishes to those who happened to look up and see her journey.
She fell in to his dream.