Stream of Consciousness at 10:55 on a Thursday night

I see the moon and some flowers. The soft light of a candle is flicking near me. All of them come inside my head to make something else; to awake a new sense of living right at this moment. Self-doubt is big and almost indestructible , but the fingers keep going on writing. But it all happens now, and as I chase this mysterious impulse to create I try to reach deep inside me, to get to a point of a final remark. It is impossible, sitting here with the piano loud in my ears, and this urge pushing on and on,

To the Moon, I hear a whisper, and now it is gone.

I look at the sky outside, it is black and empty. The moon must have slept away in a desolate place on this earth. And I could have been there to greet it, but I am not. This desk is tough and scrawny; it forces me in this chair.

Where are we going? I ask, yet my body is mute, it just moves along some mystic energy. As my brain gets softer, I understand that this is it for today. I have written something. Impulsive and maybe meaningless. But I have manifested my thoughts in the fastest way possible. And that's enough for now. Tomorrow the moon may come to me.

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I wanted to make this post more interactive in the sense that it looks more like a static page, rather than just words on a screen. It is an experimental work, but this multimedia design interests me a lot. It gives a new sense of experiencing a written work. I hope you enjoy it.

* Image of the Moon: Unknown creator