When I was younger I used to sneak out of my bedroom window just to stand outside and look up above into the abyss of night. The stunning sky above, filled with a million stars steadily illuminating the hours of darkness, calmed me in a way that nothing else could. In those moments I was infinitesimal, surrounded by an engulfing quietness that the world can only offer after the sun has gone down. I felt apart of something bigger than myself, I felt whole and alive – and with that came an immeasurable realization of the beauty and chaos of what life truly is.
I still wonder what the night sky must have looked like two hundred years ago, with no ever-present glow of electricity or haze of pollution to cloud the view of those too-bright stars, and
how overwhelming it must have felt to look up and see something so beautiful that it hurt to know how out of reach it truly was. And it’s strange to me because I want that//// I want to feel that feeling of being so incredibly small that nothing and everything matters all at once.
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