Inner workings.. made external

-The occasional conversations with my keyboard-

When the Moon fell in love with the Sun.

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No one could fathom the reason why.

One warm and inviting, the very source of Life.
Every morning He rose, without fail.
Even when you couldn’t see Him, you knew He was there.
He had to be there.
His light might be overshadowed on days, but His Life-giving presence was daily unmistakable. 

The other was detached and cool.
Her silvery light was beautiful and intriguing, but She always seemed many lightyears away. 
Many have loved and dreamt under the light of the Moon,
but none have ever felt Her presence. 
There were days She hid behind clouds, and it seemed as though She was not even there.

Opposites attract, but they will eventually repel.
The Sun said: Your friends are the stars that sit silently in the sky.
The Moon said: And yours are the little people on that planet.
The Sun said: Why can’t you come out in the day?
And then the Moon said: Why can’t you be with me in the night?

It was thus decided.


The Moon said: I want you to take back whatever You have given me; I want no remembrance of our past.
The Sun said: But I cannot do that! Without my light, you will no longer be seen by anyone. It will be as though You ceased to exist. 
But the Moon insisted.
And being very persuasive, the Sun caved and agreed.

Immediately, the Moon was no more.

They wept 70 days.
70 days it rained on Earth, and the people on this planet hid in their houses and lit candles on the dark Moonless nights.
They complained about the Moonless nights, but deduced that at least they still were left with the far more important Life-giving source.

For them, that was enough.

And so, no one ever saw the Moon again.
How could they?
Her light was never her own.
When She was loved, She shone brilliantly in the night sky, and lovers loved under her light.
Alone, she was but one of the billion orbiting planets.
Not even the Sun would have been able to tell her apart.

So the people of Earth lived through their fallout, because they still had the Sun.
But on crisp summer nights, a select few lovers would bemoan their loss of the moonlight.

Because:

People lived by the Sun,
but they loved by the Moon.

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Dark Clouds

The full weight; the full impact has hit home ground.
And I feel it, I really do.
You know; only people who have cried their hearts out understand this:
It translates into physical pain.
Actual physical pain; in the chest where I suppose the humanized organ called the human heart resides.

You see, I had a dream.
I had a plan, an ideal, which enraptured me like none other.
It set my soul on fire; something which could, for once in my entire life, actually be attainable and achievable and not subject to environmental circumstances.
The outside world had nothing on it. Nothing.
You don’t have to compete with others for a slot, a space for it to exist.
It could take form if you wanted it to.

That dream symbolized the beginning of the end of wanting, of needing.
It is in itself a form of completion, but a completion which would offer unexplored incompletion, and yet if more never comes, it is in itself; complete.


Fire catches easily, and it consumed me for a huge part of my life.
Flames give way to embers, but not this.
The flames just caught on and it became a reason to keep doing what I’m doing; it became a goal that made everything I am doing make sense and remain bearable at times when they weren’t.

I had all these dates, and plans, but maybe not enough realism.
Realism is the enemy of all dreams.
And as I look upon the path, I see it now has become a slope, and a treacherous one at that.
Dark clouds, dark clouds.
I am exactly where I am, I stand where I stood, but it is no longer within reach.
It always remains; just a little out of reach.
And it is killing me.
There are days.
Good days and bad days.
Days of optimism and days of realism.

It wasn’t supposed to be so complicated.
But somehow it has become just that.
There are so many things, so many reasons I don’t understand;
Their importance, when placed beside the dream, is absolutely nothing to me.
Nothing.
And now I’m seeing, right before my eyes, the gradual deconstructing of everything I’ve ever wanted, and all for what I perceive to be nothing.

Nothing changes everything.
Nothing changed everything.
Nothing is going to eat at my soul, little by little, until the dreams it was so full of;
Turns into nothing.

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Turn my head;

But break my heart with mercy. 

This time around, the corners, the spaces held more meaning. The ghosts of us lingered, and, maybe it was best left that way.

Open-ended.

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I don’t like it okay?
I don’t like having to worry about someone so much, as though if something terrible were to happen to them, it would be like it happened to me.
Watching out for oneself alone is tiring enough. Recently, it feels like I need to close my eyes and not feel like another half of myself is running rampant, with the possibility of disaster around every corner.
Is this what it feels like to have kids?
I never want to spend my whole life feeling like this.
See, this is what opening yourself up to emotions does. Vulnerability. Hate it.

I don’t like it okay?

I don’t like having to worry about someone so much, as though if something terrible were to happen to them, it would be like it happened to me.

Watching out for oneself alone is tiring enough. Recently, it feels like I need to close my eyes and not feel like another half of myself is running rampant, with the possibility of disaster around every corner.

Is this what it feels like to have kids?

I never want to spend my whole life feeling like this.

See, this is what opening yourself up to emotions does. Vulnerability. Hate it.

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I think places hold memories; places are memories. Places are to memories what names are to people. 
I walk past that rooftop every night, and wonder if I could return to way back when; if i wished hard enough.

I think places hold memories; places are memories. Places are to memories what names are to people. 

I walk past that rooftop every night, and wonder if I could return to way back when; if i wished hard enough.

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