The sun
I wonder how the sun feels about constantly having to put itself out there, all day long, everyday. Does it deliberately keep trying to hide behind the fragile clouds all day, despite knowing we can’t do life without its artsy shades? Does it only listen to those who curse the heat, while so many radiating smiles are only ever captured under its alluring rays? Does it feel jealous of the moon for often being used as a synonym for beauty, even though it might not be putting in effort the same way?
And I wonder how we continue to normally go about our days, everyday, without giving that much thought to the possible existence of similar silent struggles everywhere around. Too busy with our worldly concerns. Too occupied with our overly reproductive messes. Completely engrossed in the shadows of life; oblivious to the constant presence of someone/something out there putting its entire being aside for everyone else’s sake, often taken for granted. All day long, everyday.
