Many nights I sit outside in the darkness, nothing but the soft wind makes a sound; the moon illuminates the whole world around be, basking it in a soft white glow. Its in this loneliness that I speak to her, the moon. I tell her about my day and confide my deepest grievances and secrets with her as if there is somebody listening, addressing her always as Luna. Sometimes I think Im crazy by talking to a floating rock in orbit above the planet, treating it as if its a character from a television
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