“In the sky there are always answers and explanations for everything: every pain, every suffering, joy and confusion.”
― Ishmael Beah,
The sky rejoices with us with our happiness, by letting the ball of sunshine sink within our skins, representing replenishment and the warmth of love. We take pictures of us within the sunlight, valuing how natural lighting works, not knowing its true meaning.
The clouded and fully loaded sky hides from the view of its watchers, maybe too preoccupied of unsaid thoughts. We question ourselves why is there an abundant amount of clouds, unaware of the sky’s mindset. Why are we overthinking and complicating things out that causes us to radiate negativity everywhere?
The grey sky burdens some pail of water, dragging the weeping raindrops and perfect lightnings. Eventually, falling all its belongings unto the canopy of life. We watch the sky bellow its distress on us, then joining it by means of writing all our miseries on the steamed glass of our windows, and sipping a cup of warm tea.
The sky begets strokes of different hue, at a time, as a sign of the sun waving goodbye to its spectators. Just like the human nature, we saw beauty on farewells through dusks. We believe that we will see something such alluring the next day. We cling unto the hope of having the same aesthetic again, knowing it came to an end.
The dotted sky proves us that even on the darkness, we can still shine. It’s celestial bodies flicker on the pitch-black darkness of the sky even on 12 midnight of late calls. We trace the constellations on the sky to show that we learned basic science and prove that we’re not too old to imagine figures on stars.
And within the sky,
We see people we shouldn’t.
We see the sky as an accompany to our hardships while doing projects.
We see the sky as our exes, our pillow to the mishaps of the universe, our unwary yet nonchalant ear out of the hazy noise of our life.
But the distinction between the sky and our exes is that the sky knows how to look concerned even when it’s not.