Written By, J. M. Lilin
Oh, Miss Midnight. The splendid marvels in the sky are such a rarity to me. An exhibition of heavenly curiosity. Imagination set up in the grace of allurement. Stunning display of wonder. A sensation of passion spreading through the gleam of your eyes.
I write best late at night. When no one is around, and the world is quiet. Peaceful even. With the stars as my company. The time of night when fantasied come to life. Where anything could happen. When nocturnal fairies come to comfort. When midnights charm becomes magnetic. Everything feels right in the dead of night. When isolation and the ink of creation belong to me.
The ink of the night sky, given away personally by Miss Midnight. Isn’t it beautiful? Do you feel it? I survive in it. I am created with a midnight melody. Her freckles being the stars, her tears falling down to grant wishes. Do you ever wonder if someone can hear your voiceless nights? Those three am thoughts aren’t just sent by no one.
Oh, Miss Midnight told me I was a gift. A gift of creation. A gift of imagination. She told me to keep writing. Sent by the stars I was and giving up couldn’t happen unless I wanted the stars to come down and be held up in a jar. So, I kept writing. I wrote until my head went dry.
Then she gave me a hope. Granted me a new wish. Gave me something I desperately needed. The inspiration became motivation and I found myself caught up in another world. They thought I was a false hope. Someone insane but a daydreamer had grown up inside of me and here I was, letting the daydreamer come forth.
The unsigned writer inside me, my partner in creativity. We built our projects as planets. The puzzle pieces of thoughts coming and going. I snatched what I could. Emotions being the glue that brought everything together. I couldn’t have hoped for better.
Miss Midnight told me to declare it! As I sat alone in a marble of darkness, she told me to step out. Told me to forget the doubts because they were only slowing me down. Had me write something magnificent because I didn’t have time to wonder if it would just become a draft.
Using orbs of brilliant lights. Pulling together the blues and blacks of the night sky. The sun gave us day, but Miss Midnight gave us the night with endless possibilities. The time to write. The time to dream. The time to fall back in an endless abyss of possibilities.
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