Urban melancholia reigns because psychedelic illusions are abundant, dreams are left broken.

Trying is what makes us human.
And the happiness tinted glasses of children, through which they look at everything leaves them unable to comprehend how it's so rampant.
Tragedy.

But employing the little that was left in Pandora's box, we try.
We aim at happiness.
We aim at chances, and second chances, and some of us miss and some do not. And some fail gloriously, with a fight, and some do not.
We use our words.
We live.

That's why we're human.
Even with the universal futility of all actions, we try.

We laugh and we sing to our songs.

So that's why,
Reach for the stars.

Simple. True.

Ethereal.

I'm awake in my room at 2 a.m. and I feel ethereal.

Maybe it's the combination of listening to Jonsi's magic and watching 'Her'.

Of having plans which others deem boring but to me are amazing. 

Of buying two books. 

Of meeting an incredible human who I have the honour of calling my sensei.

Of having incredible friends who trust me.

Of being able to structure words into sentences beautifully, with a reinforced ability. 

Of having some clarity into what I want to do, what I want to be.

Of actually doing all I just said, and more.

It feels ethereal.