Midnight seems to have a sort of power over me.
No matter how early I ever get up, I will never be as alive as I am at night. I find it fascinating; how everyone's gone to sleep while I stay up, thinking and observing. Feeling alone yet not lonely, in a space that suddenly seems smaller and more compact in the lack of light.
Countless times have I sat down and stared into the dark nothingness, waiting for my eyes to readjust and capture the everlasting glow of the night; when everything starts too look a bit more clear, and I start to feel a bit more powerful.
Countless times have I stayed up all night developing a new bursting idea that appeared with no warning, and that I know won't feel as exciting the next day.
Midnight seems to have a sort of power over nature.
One of the only things we know in life is that the night will come again everyday. The sun will leave, taking its most delicate hints of life with him. And the stars will shine and create different spectacles every single time.
Full moons will shine, high and prominent, floating still in the infinite blanket that the sky is. Those days the stars seem a little bit dim, and the city feels a little bit small and the environment feels a little bit rich.
New moons will hide and observe from up above, and create a majestic masterpiece of stars that display themselves in a graceful manner. Those days I lay back in the balcony, head on my hands and eyes facing the sky, silently appreciating the show of stars that somehow gained power and reign the night. And slowly their display seems to make more and more sense as my mind identifies constellations throughout the whole firmament.
All this, and only at midnight.
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Prompts to a Certain Someone
Non-FictionA series of ideas I developed into words. . . . I, @flxrcxnt own all the content of this book. Ideas, context, characters and descriptions belong to me. Any means of copy or reproduction of this book will be reported, and actions will be taken as s...
