the stars in my sky/viktuuri

this world we live in

THIS IS NOT YOI, BUT I WANTED TO DO SOME WRITING SO IM JUST GOING TO ADD SOME STUFF IM THINKING ABOUT ON HERE!! I REPEAT: N O T Y O I

its 3:34 a.m. and i'm thinking about the world.
im looking down at the almost- empty streets of Dallas and watching the few cars roam the street light- flooded roads. Still waiting on their red lights even though their children are at home, looking out the window, wondering when they're coming home as their mother tries to drag them back to bed, ignoring the now cold chicken that's sitting on the dining table in their small apartment- one they were supposed to come home to hours ago. I think about the cars that stop in the middle of the street, debating where to go. Wondering why they got in that argument back home and why they left in the first place, falling too far from the house and trying to get lost in a city that's almost impossible to do so. I think about the girl stumbling out of a 24 hour bar, surrounded by her own smoke and smelling of desperation and confidence that wasn't hers in the first place. I think about the cars left in the closed-mall parking garage, and the people probably sitting inside them, not wanting to go home to the bills and student loans and faces of people in which they don't want to see. I think about the boy who is sitting on the hood of his car, looking up at the stars that probably aren't as visible to me as they are to him- after all, he's the one searching for them. Im searching for him, for any story to put beneath this character laying out in the night of the city, but I can't- maybe he just wanted to look at the stars. I think about the train that I can see going by, off in the distance. I think about how many people are sitting on that midnight train, waiting to see the welcoming and exhausted faces of those who have probably been waiting for hours, and so they live through a couple more stops, because it's all worth being in someone's arms again. I think about all these background characters in the view of a city, and how they all have stories of their own. I think about how i'm a background character in Star Boy's life- he doesn't even know that i exist, that he's one in mine. I think about how we're all just background characters, something to set the stage for another person's life, to fill the void in their story.
Big buildings are living in the night as more people shut their eyes and turn themselves to sleep and the limitless mind field of their dreams. traffic lights are still turning red, yellow, and green for their empty company, performing a light show that no one will see but people like me- people who look out their window at the dark times of the day at the world around them. From a close distance, I see two people running out of a small shopping store- bags in both of their hands. I see a life itself play in front of me as they run to the empty parking lot in front of my hotel, and have an early morning picnic in the midst of the city. The only recognizable substance I can make out is the four tall bottles of liquor surrounding the two, but then I see them shake with laughter, and kiss, and then I know they're going to be okay.
I see lonesome people walking in the middle of roads- maybe they're wishing cars didn't stop to honk at them, or maybe they're wishing the city was always this quiet to think about.
I think about the few office lights that are still on. I think about the planes going by. I think about the car that's speeding down the two-lane road. I think about the blinking lights and the soft snore of the people sleeping next to me. I think about the girl in the bar and the cars that didn't know where to go. I think about the lights and the fields and the picnic. I think about the boy on the hood of his car watching the sky.
I think about what's running through all of their heads right now. What's their favorite color, where are they from, where are they going? How did they grow up, do they like sunsets or sunrises more? Has that boy always liked watching the stars in an empty city on a December morning?
I think, and I think, and I think, until it all goes blurry and I conclude:
People are alive. I am alive and I am breathing, and so are they. I like watching people, they like watching stars. I am not just a background character- I am another living, breathing, beating soul to roam this earth with my own favorite color and preference of sunsets over sunrises. We are living. This is the world we live in.