Sometimes there are days that almost seem designed by a calculating determined foe, to wreck havoc on our fragile lives and carefully laid out plans. The dreams we long to see fulfilled and replay again and again each night before falling into sleep are carefully monitored for a day when they can be meticulously unravelled. On days such as these it is difficult to see hope through the defeat. It is difficult to believe that things will, and most often do turn out just fine. These are the days when we talk to the stars, wishing, hoping for things to turn out. Nights like this drive us to greatness as we seek refuge from the pain. These are the nights when we talk to the stars.
