Every single night. The moon hiding behind the soft figure of the floating clouds, creating a beautiful portrait, the sky dark and the atmosphere; pretty haunting. Laying in bed, the mattress slowly dipping under my weight, abducting all the pain of the day, I’d stare out of the window, to watch the sky, floating lights here and there, called stars. The sheer material laying above my body providing me the warmth I need during the coldest nights. The portrait I had drawn during the day would become lively at night, maybe only in my head, and the mind and heart would glow with new colours daily, helping with the artpiece of the next day. And when I’d drift off to sleep, it would be a new beginning in another dimension, and I’d become a pondering soul.