I Missed the Full Moon

Last night, the moon was bright and full in the evening sky...so as my brother said. I missed it. I didn't get to go out. I just slept through the whole day and tweaked my blog. (See the flickr flash over there?)

I love full moons. They're so romantic and halloween-y. I love just staring at it.

It is poetic on its own. It's so melancholic against the darkness of the night sky. It's as if it's so alone...

The stars are there to shine with it at night, but they're so far away, and they're not exactly the same. Some people may think it useless to have a moon. One, it doesn't have its own light (it just borrows from the sun, which is a star). Two, it doesn't provide heat or moon-energy or whatever.

Still, it is most humble. Though it needs to admit subordination and borrow from the sun, it does, just to give us light when everything is dark, when the sun can't and all the other stars are too far away to give.

Once a month-yes, only once-it gets to dominate the sky in all its glory. And those days, I love. It's weird, actually. On those days, I tend to wonder. About things...About life...what's going on, what's going to happen, what I want and if I'm ever gonna get to them. My imagination runs amuck. I start to visualize what might be, what I wish might be.

And then all things just...falls away. I get really sad...I think of him and get really sad... I think of why my life's going this way...why I'm loveless...

Most of the time, it's just general sadness that settles in. I can't explain it. It just does.

On rare occasions, I get hopeful. Like when Halloween or Christmas approaches. The full moon brings me endless possibilities. Yes, the imagination is there, but this time, on an optimistic note. I get the feeling that yes, it might be possible, it could really happen, I can make it to. I think this is the more dangerous one because I soar high with all idealism...and I'd crash hard. No, a white Christmas isn't possible over here afterall. I won't be spending it with my special someone, because I'm not special to that someone, or any other someones. I will grow up to be another Bridget Jones without the Mark Darcy part, singing "All by Myself" over and over during holidays, watch sappy movies, climb on the weighing scale while munching on a donut, and hate myself for being fat, then rant about it in my private diary, and probably on this blog, if it's still working.

However, all this negativity sums up to a hopeful thought. Wherever I am, whatever might be, there will always be the lone moon, revolving around the earth, bringing light, maybe love, and it will be that same moon that'll hover over us. It'll be that same moon we'll look at and ponder on.