What chances do we stand against kismet?
We woke up in dreamland, in an island made out from the stuff of dreams. It was night, dark, and worthy of the pitch black. Our bodies laying bare naked on the sand. Every grain of it fringing on every inch of our follicles. Waves crashing on the rocks like our minds crashing on a torrential stream of questions. Innocent, dumbfound, the very shape of a child we were lying in silence. Timid. Even we couldn’t exert an ounce of energy for fragment movements.
The universe couldn’t stand our human arrogance, it slapped our ignorance to its knees. A cosmic show of stars that humbled mankind — twinkling and falling — made it all happen. It brightens our cognizant faces from slumber. We started gazing at them as if we’re familiar with the heavens. Slowly, it’s seeping into our senses. Our hands started to navigate through the sky, pointing from star to star making a handful of constellations of our own. Some had been chased, some are still waiting to be a chase. We were born to do it. Unwary to ourselves, we ended up with the same star all at once, meeting our fingers at one star. Shocked, we stared at each other looking for similar ones — we have. We’re all amused. The cosmos unveiled more of her to gaze upon. Oceans of stars wider than the ones we have. The light shone and glimmered sporadically. I see sparkles in our eyes, like that of the stars above, realizing that we’re part of the vast universe meant to wander with our feet.
One by one, each started telling stories of their stars, of their constellations, of how they chased it upon falling and made a great adventure with it. The clusters of shining diamonds consisted of bright ones, small or big, of those shining brightly and not, weaved a cosmic story of their own universe. It made us happy and made some of it as our own. Some pointed out their favorite ones — those that shines and twinkles the brightest — wishing that one day maybe, just maybe if the heavens take its course, they’ll chase those ones as it split the sky.
In this island made of dreams, where darkness is constant and moonless oceans of stars are absolute, chasing fallen cosmos means adventure. It made great stories on the great ones, it made bonds. Every adventure made dozens of constellations bigger than they once had. Some made constellations with others, some made others’ star their favorite. Amaze by how vast the universe could be, we missed out the falling ones from our own clusters. Some, we may unwary of, and others, we watched our stars falling to the ocean below. Terrible, yet it feels totally fine as long as we’re constantly watching for our new ones.
I do not know how physics works in this world, the time seems fast then it runs slow and crawling. But the time doesn’t lie when the brightest of our stars threaten to fall. The heavens have already decided and it’s an adventure for one. When the time comes, their favorite ones are ripe for falling, ripe for chasing for only one. We are meant to chase those stars — our favorite ones, aren’t we all?
Looking at our brightest stars made us realized that we’re all just little stardust in the cosmos. We hold remnants of long-lost stars in our veins. Maybe that’s why it feels so good to look up at our favorite ones — ’cause we’re once part of it. Every atom of our bodies is begging to go home. We chased those ones leaving others behind, hoping for an adventure of a lifetime. It might be a long journey, or maybe short. We don’t know. Time is unfathomable, so I let the universe holds the answers for that.
Maybe one day, when a new star is born, we’ll find our long-sought answers in this dreamland. And maybe we’ll find our way back home. And if the universe conspires after millions of light-years, we’ll cross our fingers again, pointing to that same new born star, staring with great wonders flaunting in our eyes. Familiar faces, nostalgic sensations filled our dreamland. One by one, we’ll start telling stories of our adventures with our favorite ones. Cosmic smiles some light-years long drawn to our faces. There again those sparkles in our eyes but brighter than they once before that always make us think of how we’re meant to wander with our feet in this vast universe. Genuine laughter tailing every after conversations like shooting stars. Stories of bravery, fate, and kismets. We might not hold the stars, but they hold the stories of the great ones.