How do you keep on shining, after these bazillion of years?
* * *
You were created to shine for eternity. Why stop now?
It gets to you, one way or the other. That sense of utter tiredness. Or boredom. Or both. Sometimes it’s just a fleeting moment; sometimes, it takes days, weeks, months. Sometimes, it does feel like a lifetime— an incomplete story, pages of us complaining about dying in every chapter.
I used to like bullying flowers. Now, I don’t.
I used to trace constellations for hours at night. Now, I don’t.
I used to remember the kindness in most people, all the good memories they’ve shared with me. Now, I just sigh and remember them.
Is this what they call adulthood? If so, I don’t want it.
Is this what they refer to as maturity? If it is, I never wanted it.
But still, there are beautiful evenings when the stars inside my imagination would twinkle, stellar lights playing in the dark, hiding answers and seeking questions, and I would just laugh, enjoying the childishness of the thought— life and love in its childlike state: pure and unadulterated by the qualms of reality and practicality.
I used to shine. Now, I feel like a dull rock in the middle of the road.
Maybe I’ve let my thoughts linger too much on earthly things, when my soul was supposed to dwell on heavenly stuff. And so my heart was covered by the ashes of my ethereal dreams, and what was supposed to be unbreakable finds itself vulnerable to time: the ravager of this present world.
But the sun still shines. Even when our romances fail. Even when our careers don’t improve. Even when families and friendships fade. Even when our aspirations and desperations coalesce and become that bitter beverage you get drunk on during lonely and lonesome nights. The sun still shines; maybe not where you are— but it still does: somewhere, somewhen, somewhat, somehow, somewhy.
It’s never the sun’s fault if you’re in the dark. Just be patient, wait for the dawn. Or get on a boat, a plane, and travel to where it rises; chasing after it with every sunset. Because the sun shines, but not only for you. It shines because it is the sun, whether you consider it your sun or not.
And you should shine. Shine with what you are, what you have. You may not have the warmth for those who are cold, or you may not have the radiance to cause life where the land is barren. Shine with the things that make you shine— because no matter how dim, no matter how you flicker, you still bring the smile, the laughter, the memories that no other can give.
For the sun can cause flowers to grow and bloom, but only you can help other people to glow and mature. The sun can turn vapors to clouds and storms, but only you can brave the raging tempests of the heart and share in the raindrops of storm-infested souls.
School and learning go on. Life and heartaches go on. Work and bills go on. And the sun still shines. So should that little star in you.