Humans are beautifully broken creatures. We're just made of muscle and bone, a bundle of nerves and a heart and a brain wrapped up in layers of skin, ninety-three percent of which originated from the stars. We're disastrous wonders whose eyes leak salt water when we're sad, whose blood-pumping organs work faster when we're nervous and whose pupils dilate when we're in love. We wrap our arms around each other for comfort and press our lips against one another's to show affection. But the most conflicting part of the matter is that though we're all living, we are all dying as well. From the minute that a living being is conceived, it is beginning its trajectory towards death.
And yet we strive on, and we attempt to love, and we attempt to be loved, and we don't always succeed. We will feel happiness and sadness, pride and humiliation, ecstasy and despair, hope and hopelessness; illnesses may get the best of us, our spirits may be broken, we ourselves may feel exhausted down to our very souls; but amidst it all, we will keep on living until we don't.
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ŞiirThis is a collection of poetry and prose about stars, love and the like. It is a glimpse inside my mind and a full view of my soul. My thoughts are like celestial dust: quite useless on their own, but once they come together, create a star that give...
