And so we are all a little lost under this city of stars, hoping against hope that the apocalypse doesn’t hit while we’re still wide awake. We are all a little hopelessly searching for love, to twirl and swirl in its colours before the monochrome hits and threatens to topple our paper boats. We are all a little childish in our rainbow coloured dreams, hoping that there’s a pot at the end of the rainbow we can touch so that the colours can wash our dark souls down and make us cheerful amidst the sickness of the world.
We are all a little crazy in our own ways, trying to turn the tables and define crazy and normal in our own ways, hoping that our definitions stick. We are all a little dizzy in our own ways without being drunk; dizzy under the influence of the intoxicating night. We are all a little high on our own lives – happy days, dark days and all – without needing any drug to push us onto the fringes of reality and illusion.
We are all a little happy and a little sad, a little hopeful and a little hopeless, a little white and a little dark, a little there and a little here, a little sane and a little insane. We are all made of a little of everything. We dream. Different dreams, maybe. We hope. For different things, yes. We live. Different ones, of course. We laugh. At different things, definitely. We just don’t realise it while we stay so busy whirling around under the cosmos, doing our deeds – good and bad – and living our lives – small and big.
And that’s all we can do, hope and live and laugh. Be made of a little of everything. Under the sky full of stars.