Tonight, after my eyes had finally adjusted to the dark, and after my brain had finally learned to stop looking across the street at my neighbor's dick light, I saw some stars.
Actual stars. Not nearly as many as I saw when I was a kid. My aging eyes and all this stupid light pollution have taken care of that. And not even a zillionth as many as what I saw on that one night in Nevada, but still, a lot of stars.
They were pretty.
I also was lucky enough to see not one, not two, but five shooting stars.
I made five wishes.
More precisely, I made the same wish five times.
I am not a bad person. I am not a selfish person.
I wished for eternal happiness for someone else.
Also, as an added bonus, here's the only comic I can think of which featured shooting stars. I like this one, even though MixedSignalGirl was kinda mean.
Recently I've been asked what I mean when I say that I'm in a weird mood. I've found that, with questions like that, a description is much easier to come by than a definition:
Sometimes, I dare to envision a day. A perfect day. A day of laughter and love and joy and incredible happiness. I dare to envision such a day, but I see it as the fantasy that it is, and I do not get sucked into it.
Sometimes, I remember the truth, the reality of life. My life. And sometimes I can stand the pain that reality forces into my brain, and sometimes I do not want to cry out at the unfairness of it all.
It's those incongruities that makes them weird, these moods in which I sometimes find myself.