Have you ever wished upon the stars? I did.
Most of us did at some point in our lives. You look upon the night sky, a world of endlessly shining little dots on a black canvas, go further than our perception can go. So vast, so out there. Yet so close.
You close your eyes, then you whisper them softly. If it’s a little embarrassing, sometimes you just think about them. Just the thought about those wishes under the stars and the night sky is enough.
You don’t know if they would ever come true or not. But you hope they do, and some part of you believe they would.
…
I used to form a little pinch with my index and my thumb in front of my eyes. Pretending I’m holding a star in my hand. It was a funny and childish moment, pretending I’m holding something I don’t fully understand nor have any idea how could that be conceptualize as… holding something.
But I just did it. And I enjoyed every second doing it. A star which represented a wish, an act of illogical to make sense of an abstraction that truly out of grasp yet growing in me without such word. Hope.
I just did it anyway. Because I didn’t need the world to make sense. My younger, childish self just want to get the star for myself, wanted my hopes and dreams to become real.
I did it anyway. Because it was real to me.
The idea doesn’t have to make sense just for it to mean something to me.
…
Just like thousands of stars in Waterfall.
Shining, shining.
Like thousands of wishes every monsters make, when they looking up everyday.
They wished for freedom everyday.
Every hopes, every dreams, every tears, every sorrows.
I used to think when the children of the Dreemurr family die that day, each pieces of their souls scattered under the throne manifested themselves as the stars in Waterfall. Like how the monsters that were visiting there each day looking up they hoped for an irrational optimism while denying obvious reality.
Like it was delusional to hope.
I was wrong, I think. I may be still be wrong, but I don’t need to be right.
They may not see them right then, or they might see the situations as no way out then.
But they look upon the ceiling, and wish everyday anyway. Believing in something.
Believing in something that aren’t necessary true.
Because, after all, how else can they become?
After all, there is a lie in the middle of believe.