billybillybilly

I used to have dreams about the moon exploding. Everyone went crazy, like the moon actually meant something when it started to crumble apart. That's because everyone was watching. Those normal kids don't typically realise how much of a symbol it is or how strange to be taken away. Not on a daily basis at least. And tonight I looked up at it and I remembered a man's voice from one of those dreams. He was telling me we had to leave because wars were about to start, but he was calm. Calm like slow rain, and in a tone just as monotonous. He wasn't worried, it was business as usual, and that made me even more nervous about what would happen next.

Not that anyone's asking, and not that anyone needed to, but the more I think about it the more I think of how much of a symbol it is to me on a personal level. In my universe, these satellites orbit around my happy little sad little existance, and that's comforting. Rarely, if ever, do I actually acknowledge what that means. At this point, I'm not even sure I know.

This one little moment in my life is only here right now, and tomorrow will be something different, and one of my satellites fell out of orbit. It chose to move on to other planets, mine wasn't pretty enough I guess. Maybe my atmosphere became too polluted, I don't know. And this is how you find out your sattelites are gone. You don't look up and realise, you find out by delivery in a slow, monotonous tone, that a piece of your world just ended, and now it's time to move one. The voice is inside you, the part of you that stays calm all the time. Sure it doesn't make you calm as a whole, it probably even scares you... but it's still there, and it knows these situations very very well.

And tomorrow the moon will still be there, even if the satellites in my world disappear. Even if I only thought they existed in the first place, but I was just looking for a mirage and I found it. The world moves forward. People drive to work. Dogs bark at things, and the cats keep their secrets. No one knows everyone.

And I'll brush my teeth. I'll change my clothes. Eventually the clothes will wear out. I might get new ones, I might get old ones. I'll think of a joke. I'll tell that joke to someone. They'll either laugh, or they won't.

And life might not even go on. That's a possibility too.

I need to stop looking at the moon. There's a reason I don't wait for it every night. There's a reason I've just accepted that it's there, that I'll see it or I won't, and I won't waste too much time worrying about it, generally. I should be waiting for the sun. I should be looking forward to something exciting and fresh, even if it isn't new. I should be productive, and I shouldn't waste your time so much.

Even being cradled and warm, or cradling and creating warmth between... my thoughts move to satellites lately. Normally I'll not be that way, but I'm sorry, that's just the way it is right now. But I've been looking at the wrong things. And all of this, is not a confession. And in other ways, it confesses more than I ever will. I'm creepy like that, and I'm not gonna tell. You can't make me.

Eat more apples.

And enjoy your pets, if you have them. They're good for being enjoyed. You can float down rivers, waiting for someone to call you ashore, or you can just enjoy the scenery and not worry too much. It's all possible.

This is not a confession, it's a eulogy. And tonight, that's all it can be. Throw a kiss at the moon, just don't miss it too much.