Blood in the Moon

I've never noticed the moon rising before tonight. While searching for pathways through the stars a quiet moon peaked over the night sky. A crimson hue it glowed, barren and silent, however in a way it was like an eye, blood shot, piercing, searching. The silent watchman while we sleep...

Imagine you are implanted on the earth, and rather than lying beneath the stars; it's as if your on the grandest seat in the entire universe. Suspended in time over acres of galaxies, and paintings of planets swirling endlessly in a dark sea of magic and mystery...

While dreams die at the hands of cruel reality i believe passion is the very breath of our existence. To live in an untamed world at the mercy of exploding suns and collosal comets; where oceans rage and sands ravage the parched desert; one can only realize how trivial, nigh impossible, to live life forever organizing and arranging, planning and procrastinating. To live with to little knowledge is folly. But too much knowledge, leads to tragedy. The ideal is to soar in the middle, between sureality and our lucid dreams. For who, my friend, can tell the difference?