The world is such a picture sometimes…
when the sun is shining right into your eyes and all you see are black silhouettes.
The streams of light shoot out and stab the clouds, compensating for its minute size in the vast blue sky. It’s almost as if the sun’s fighting to make a mark in the sky. It’s such a small part of the sky that it has no choice but to draw attention to itself through blinding light
so that it’s not disregarded…
..so that it’s not forgotten.
That’s the power of the sun. When we stare into it, we forget about our surroundings partly because we can’t see anything else but also because its gravitational pull lures us into its world of emptiness and barren white pit.
Why do you think we can’t see anything after having been in the sunlight for a considerable amount of time? It’s because the sun is trying to engrave itself in our memories just like we want to be remembered.
Everything has feelings…
it’s not just us.
wandering 