Why do we sometimes long for the stars when we know we couldn't take their heat in a 100 years? Despite knowing how impossible it is, we do it anyway. Why? Doesn't the certainty of the result wear us out? Why is there a glimmer of hope every time we think about it even when we know how uncertainty looms over our head every second of every minute? Logically, its never happening. You have no chance. That should be enough to bog us down. But it's not. Why?
Because the heart doesn't listen. It is stubborn and adamant and refuses to be worn out at any cost. Even if the cost is pain, pain we might not be able to take. Are we inherently masochistic or is it just the glimmer of hope which flickers across your mind that makes it all worth it?
How sad. We roam the earth, longing for the stars, knowing all too well we can never have them. But after all, stars do fall. But the question is are you one in a million?