Look at the stars. See how they shine for you.

One of those moments. You suddenly take a breath and remember. Thoughts come back. Those thoughts, the ones that take you somewhere, somewhere where nothing makes sense. Everything means nothing. You hate the stars because it seems the more you ask, the less they tell you. Just as that tear is about to break out, releasing you from constraining memories, you go back to life. Because you have to. But life, although it’s supposed to give meaning to your existence, seems to keep you further and further away from finding “yourself” in the nothingness of the Universe. But you have to go back. And keep going. Why? Don’t ask the stars, because they won’t tell.