The fact that constellations are completely man-made is beautiful. People saw stories in the night sky, where there was only light. You are my muse, and I am the director. I’d like to believe that I, too, could look to the stars and create a story. Perhaps this was when things began to go wrong. Humans are not supposed to be gods. Storytellers simply create imaginary worlds.
Still, when I look at us, I see new beginnings. I’m a writer, but I may also be a liar. However, a world without stories is a world devoid of meaning. So, despite everything, pick up the quill.
Humans try to find meaning in everything, whether the sky and its stars or the water and its infinite depths. Although there's not a single human who does not hate the present, so they invented hope.
Hope opened up a world of possibilities for wishes. Fallen eyelashes, birthday candles, 11:11, shooting stars, lucky colours, or prayers. We all want to believe that there's more to hope for and wish for.
I’m no different; I ask for all the same things. But I think I live for the opportunity to make the wish rather than for the wish to come true. I hope for the thrilling 11:11 announcements. I hope for candles on top of my cake. I hope to see the stars in the darkest sky. My wishes may or may not come true, but my hope will always remain for fleeting moments of sharing excitement and happiness.
My hope is not in the wishes themselves, but in the belief that they represent—the belief in something greater than ourselves.
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