You step outside.
Head back. Eyes slowly adjusting.
The stars don't care what kind of day you had.
They were burning long before your problems existed.
They'll burn long after.
From here everything feels urgent.
The deadline. The doubt. The noise.
From up there it's already dust.
We forget how small we are.
Not in a sad way. In a freeing way.
The sky doesn't shrink your worries to mock you.
It just shows you the scale you forgot.
Look up more often.
Not for answers. For proportion.
