My favorite part of the day, is when it's two or three o' clock in the morning; and I'm left alone with my thoughts and daydreams wandering out of control. It's the time when I'm allowed to be myself, my love sick and depressing self, that is. I think that night time is magical. It's the time of day when one is usually trying to find who they really are, or some guy is getting drunk in a bar because he totally screwed up with his girl. It's normally when some teenager is walking all alone on an abandoned street listening to music and wondering if this is all life is. And then there is me. The one lying on the couch writing about a thought she had and thinking that it's amazing that billions of other people are spending their two o' clock in the morning differently than her. Night is magical because night is the truth. The sky is dark, and everything is so black that it seems to just melt into each other. But then you have the moon and the stars. The moon can never outshine the sun, but it tries. The moon knows the truth. The moon knows the darkness in life. It watches millions of people sobbing in the middle of the night wondering what they're doing wrong. It watches people make horrible decisions, and the loners walking down the street. The moon knows that in a life full of darkness it's hard to shine through. But the moon also knows that it is quite possible, for he does it every night. Even though it's hard to shine, witnessing all the black and depressing parts of human life. But that's why I like the moon, he's strong, and he is wise. He is friends with all the stars as well. And he loves them because they make pictures and tell ancient stories that seem ridiculous to the future. But even as the stars shine and then burn, they're still beautiful in their own way. Twinkling, and trying to shed some happiness into a depressing night. Sparkling, and setting off a romantic scene for some love sick couple. The stars love the moon as well. The stars are like moons army, his own little pack of soldiers. He teaches them that in war, it is hard and depressing. But even if that is so, just like he, they must shine every night. "Even if you don't want to," he would say, "you've gotta try. You can never give up. Without you, the night would have no light, no hope." And the stars would twinkle and sparkle in excitement, ready to help the insomniacs and the drunks; ready to help them find their way home somehow. And I guess that's why two or three o' clock in the morning is my favorite part of the day.