Make a wish. Any wish in the world. It’s not a waste of time, I swear. But a wish is not worth wishing if it only loses hope. You make a wish, but the well runs dry. All the dreams you dreamt, have already passed, just like the speed of light passes around us every second, but we cannot fathom it. So is it like our dreams passing us in vaporized seconds that seem like figments of our imaginations. But we still make wishes about our dreams, just hoping that one day wishing on a star will be like getting a fresh start, and that our feelings would disappear from our existence of reality, and what we felt became what we feel , and what we feel became what we felt. We over think, we underestimate, we believe and are deceived, we deceive and are believed, yet we don’t know how we feel relates to how we felt, or how we felt relates to how we feel? We begin to wish on stars that don’t exist. We feel but don’t experience, because there are no stars to bring our experiences into action. There are no stars. Burning balls of gas that exploit light into the atmosphere seem so vivid and strong, but they are so weak. They are weak as we are weak. Weak souls walking in lifeless bodies of feelings we try to hide, and emotions we try to sever, but the underlying truth is that we have been wishing on stars since our first breath. The second we breathed our first breath, our heart began to beat to a rhythm of hope, a pattern of dreams awoke, stimulating our souls with a sense of purpose and a beauty of passion. But we fight, and we push them away throw them away, smothering the crevasses as to not let any part of us show through. Like a child covering their eyes in a dark room so they can’t see, we too have already been blinded by an inescapable light that resells within us, causing us to close our eyes, and forbidding us to look up into the sky, throw away our fears, and just dream.