Childlike

When I was young, I used to run and wonder if the moon is chasing after me. I would wave my hand at the sky every time an airplane passes by, thinking the passengers would see me. Sometimes, I would hide under my blanket on those nights that someone told me a horror story, imagining a ghost lies beside me. I also believed that we become stars when we die.

But life taught me what reality is. No, the moon never followed me but the anxieties do and every thing seems dark although it shines in the night. Airplane tickets have more worth than my useless self, the monster is not beside me but rather inside my being.

The worst truth―we're not going to be stars but rather just dusts that will soon be a part of sediments who once lived, who once roamed on this world but ended up ten feet under the ground. We won't shine and we will soon fade on people's memory, we won't fly and be a part of the sky because we'll just be a fragment of the past.

So live while you're young―be silly and dream because you never know what happens next.