the moon and beauty, and the night where it meets reminds me of december ~ of those from the distant past, which somehow made me feel like there was no lonely man before and after me.

tonight, there's the moon and beauty again, and the self who stopped dwelling on those december's. the self who knew and felt that somehow, expectations of what is grand finally correlates with reality.

tonight, just like any other nights, there's the moon. there's remembering about the process of forgetting. there's the feeling of existing and co-existing. there is actually much. you, me, and the skyway and the tollgates, and all the things that the moon hasn't refused to shine on every night.