The moon looks down at all of us. The stories it would tell if it could. The girl who cries out heartbroken. The man drinking his problems away. The boy writing what comes to mind. The older gentleman knowing he's on his last breath of air. The young man temping on wasting his life. All lives are stared at by the moon, as do the lives stare back. The love. The hate. The pain. The happiness. The sadness. The fun. The memories. The stories.
Each person who stares at the moon shares in the same memories. Each person feels the same when they stare at the moon. They share all the feelings as if they were one in the same and yet they are only one. The Moon both smiles and frowns. The Moon cries and laughs. The Moon even does nothing at all, and yet it does everything. Does this make the Moon human? Does it mean the Moon is alive? No it's quite simple. We are as much of the Moon, as the Moon is one of us. That is why we gave it a name. That is why we gave it a face. That is why we see emotions in it.
When we are alone what do we do? Do we think of the pain? Do we think of the happiness? Do we think of the pain? Or of the solutions? We are each an individual and yet we are all the same. How so? We think the same. We act the same. We feel the same. And yet we are still different. We are still people. The world only carries us on its back.
