Gone too soon

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Comet 17P/Holmes and Geminid
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"Like a comet blazing 'cross the evening sky gone too soon...
shiny and sparkly and splendidly bright... here one day gone one night..." -- Gone Too Soon, Michael Jackson

I want to slap my face for every star that fell last night and the other night that I missed -- the Leonid, and now, the Geminid -- all gone in a day or two. My fault entirely. I knew exactly when they'll show up, I knew exactly what to do to see them but I missed the fireworks for sleep and other matters in a span of hours I couldn't even account for.

I'm starting to ask myself now whether I'm actually asleep 'round that time or was simply busy whiling the hours away doing I don't know, something.

Are there those who pity people like me who have lost their sense of time for having either too much or too little of it?

The most rewarding and gratifying events in life happen in between both ends of the spectrum -- and surprisingly enough, most times, it takes a whole lifetime for a person to realize that. You can't blame them. All their lives they were told the pot of gold is at rainbow's end, light is at the end of the tunnel, the best view is from the top and that the most interesting sea creatures live in the abyss.

We do not seize the day -- or at least whatever seems ordinary, mundane. We prefer to archive the ones that has some sort of fireworks attached to it -- anything shocking, surprising, magnificent, marvelous..historic.

And we think it makes sense. After all, why bother keeping track of routines that don't even change by the day. Newsflash: Celebrating mediocrity is mediocrity.

We do not bother to appreciate a "starry, starry night" as Van Gogh or Don McLean did. What's so special about a night full of stars? We see that almost all the time, don't we?

We patiently wait for that meteor shower. We wait for the spectacular. We utter a wish for every star that falls..and we do so with so much hope, with so much confidence..because only falling stars can grant wishes anyway.

What is it with falling stars that regular stars don't have?

Maybe it's the thrill. Maybe it's the lost chance finally found?

Maybe it does have a difference when you wish on a falling star.

Nah. It doesn't have the slightest difference. You just choose to believe it that way. Missed another falling star? Don't fret. Hope springs eternal for the impossible optimist.

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5 comments

#1   Ding Gagelonia on 12.16.09 at 11:23 PM

Inspired writing. :)

#2   DJB on 12.17.09 at 12:02 AM

These dust grains. Maybe they are old wishes. Falling from stars back to earth's soft pillow. Every night and day. Haha! the dark matter of dreams recycled.

#3   RJ Marmol on 12.17.09 at 8:33 AM

thank you ding! :)

#4   RJ Marmol on 12.17.09 at 8:35 AM

hmm..recycled dreams..i never thought of it that way, dean. well maybe you’re right. :)

#5   Amazing buildings on 12.21.09 at 11:59 AM

I've seen few falling stars and surely this is one of the most amazing things to see. The power of my excitement was even embraced when I was able to observe Jupiter using my private stuff. Astronomy is just great.

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