The Degradation of a Dysfunctional Mind

As I lay there thinking of stars I glanced up into the bright daylight and saw a phoenix. It was brilliantly colored in subtle shimmering purples and oranges and when the light hit it just right it threw off a reflection that looked like the aurora.

Some things aren't meant to be salvaged, I suppose. Maybe this day was one of them. Sometimes things go and things come and you have to play the hand you're dealt, I'm sure. But past that I don't know if there's some larger scheme to things. Is there a destiny? Do we choose what we do and what actions we take? If we do not, why would it matter? I suppose that's a better question.

Stars are tricky. You can't look at a star directly. It tries to hide in your eye, right where the optic nerve connects. It fades out into a little invisible speck, and right when it thinks you've looked away it shows up in its full glory.