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  • The moon behind the clouds was hypnotizing tonight. The moon is something else. The moon is clearly not of this world.

    Things of this world follow the flow of time. And they always, somehow, seem to conform to your mood. When you're bursting with excitement, the trees seem to be ecstatically extending their branches towards you, like streamers of confetti frozen in the air, practically bursting with organic life, sharing in your excitement, filled with juvenile glee. When the day has been blue and gloomy, the trees sit frozen in defeat, the tips of their branches turned down, the leaves suddenly realized to be wispy, uncaring, blowing away from their brittle connections with not so much as a look back, the mighty boughs reaching down to crush you, to cave in on you, to follow your eyes down to where their wilting shadows lie plastered on the ground.

    But the moon is always, simply, the moon. Stony, simple, exalted, glistening, almost eerily perfect in the dark night sky, the moon gazes down stony-faced, perfect, somehow at once elite and humble, its pure alabaster moonbeams igniting the cloud cover in a gentle white fire, seated high in the cosmos, the calm and simple queen of the earth, subtly entrancing to all who gaze upon her. Even on the most exhilarating of nights, the moon's calming gaze puts the craze of happiness into perspective, reminding you that just as the moon is always the moon, you are always you, and you can never lose yourself, even in joy. Even on the most depressing and dismal of nights, if one only remembers to lift his eyes to the sky, the moon still shines calmly down, steadfastly promising "I'm still here. So are you."

    Even on the most triumphant, tragic, odd, or momentous days in the history of mankind, the moon has calmly shone down through the night, ever-present, watching all of our follies without so much as a nod of the head. Shining, crystal, perfect. Simple, complex, terrifyingly beautiful. Painting the sky in a neurotic gleaming splash of otherworldly perfection. The moon may not have always existed, but some nights, it certainly seems that way.
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