Stars & Existence.

Just one of those nights where it's just me, Coldplay, and my memories.
I feel like climbing out onto the roof and just lie down.
Just count the stars and pull one memory for every one star i count.
Then i'll realize that my memories will run out before i finish counting the stars.
And there'd be nothing left.
Just an empty mind and shell looking up at an endless stretch of beautiful tombstones.
Nothing lasts.

Stars kinda remind me of memories.
A shine is all it leaves behind once it dies.
A magnificent explosion of colors. Breathtaking.
And that travels far and wide and stays printed on our skies.
But eventually, that will fade.
Who'll remember the star that disappeared?
No one.
And what of the planets that have not died?
Who cares about them?
What does it mean to exist when one day it will be as if we have not.
Such insignificant things we are.

Yet we go on trying to carve ourselves into existence.
Yes. Hope.
Perhaps that is all the proof we have that we exist.
Not to anyone else, but to ourselves.
We hope to exist and to matter.
And we do.