The Nebula
Life in my eyes is all about stories. Stories told, stories that had happened once upon a time, stories to be told, stories about to happen, stories that could have happened but never was and will never will.
Life in my eyes is a billion reflections of different stories meant to become one story.
Life touched by a story could become bitter then sweet, then tasteless. It is like the taste of mint on your tongue, you don’t really know what it tastes like. It is cool but irritatingly hot, it is sweet but a little spicy- minty… right? But you’re loving it, and for all you know it’s taste is gone… and your tongue becomes tasteless.
Life is a story behind a dedication – a bitter yet sincerely, profoundly meaningless means. A dedication – it is your reason, your window into beauty… on why there is what you call “beauty”. It is like an echo, it is not the genuine sound but just the continuous strings of intangible beginning of the genuine sound.
Life is an echo of felicity that disappears in a great chasm of poignancy, an occasional burst of laughter that could be plotted above a graph of an interminable wail of misery, like a terrible giggle in the midst of your horrible forced march to death in hell. It is a single skip of bliss.
If I had a story to tell about once upon a time on earth, is a story of a nebula.
A nebula – it is a cloud of gas, blurry, gloomy, but it is where stars are born. Sometimes, the gas in the nebula is remnants of a supernova.
A supernova – it is a star that dies and fades away for a reason. It leaves the sky empty in a particularly spectacular way of falling to make someone else’s wish come true. But the truth behind a wish coming true is another story of a violent fashion of emptiness.
Each of us is a nebula.
Once upon a time on earth, there was a girl and she had a supernova. But her supernova, for a certain reason fell out from her sky to make someone else’s wish come true. The one side of the story was sweet and happy because it was a wish coming true from a falling star. But the other side, the side of that girl who lived once upon a time on earth was another story, a sad, tragic story of a sky being emptied for eternity. A sky empty for that was once a space occupied by a supernova, but now it’s gone… forever.
So the remnants of the supernova became a cloud of gas. Blurry, ugly, gloomy and full of poignancy… it became a nebula. But as the cliché goes… a tale to end is another tale to begin.
Then there was a nebula where another star is born… and hoping to become the next supernova.
Your story….
It is easy to find…
Because it is the only one like it.
The End. ☺
Life in my eyes is a billion reflections of different stories meant to become one story.
Life touched by a story could become bitter then sweet, then tasteless. It is like the taste of mint on your tongue, you don’t really know what it tastes like. It is cool but irritatingly hot, it is sweet but a little spicy- minty… right? But you’re loving it, and for all you know it’s taste is gone… and your tongue becomes tasteless.
Life is a story behind a dedication – a bitter yet sincerely, profoundly meaningless means. A dedication – it is your reason, your window into beauty… on why there is what you call “beauty”. It is like an echo, it is not the genuine sound but just the continuous strings of intangible beginning of the genuine sound.
Life is an echo of felicity that disappears in a great chasm of poignancy, an occasional burst of laughter that could be plotted above a graph of an interminable wail of misery, like a terrible giggle in the midst of your horrible forced march to death in hell. It is a single skip of bliss.
If I had a story to tell about once upon a time on earth, is a story of a nebula.
A nebula – it is a cloud of gas, blurry, gloomy, but it is where stars are born. Sometimes, the gas in the nebula is remnants of a supernova.
A supernova – it is a star that dies and fades away for a reason. It leaves the sky empty in a particularly spectacular way of falling to make someone else’s wish come true. But the truth behind a wish coming true is another story of a violent fashion of emptiness.
Each of us is a nebula.
Once upon a time on earth, there was a girl and she had a supernova. But her supernova, for a certain reason fell out from her sky to make someone else’s wish come true. The one side of the story was sweet and happy because it was a wish coming true from a falling star. But the other side, the side of that girl who lived once upon a time on earth was another story, a sad, tragic story of a sky being emptied for eternity. A sky empty for that was once a space occupied by a supernova, but now it’s gone… forever.
So the remnants of the supernova became a cloud of gas. Blurry, ugly, gloomy and full of poignancy… it became a nebula. But as the cliché goes… a tale to end is another tale to begin.
Then there was a nebula where another star is born… and hoping to become the next supernova.
Your story….
It is easy to find…
Because it is the only one like it.
The End. ☺
