The Infinite Starr

writing

  • The Rest Between Mountains

    There are nights when even the strongest souls grow weary. When the climb feels endless, and the view—no matter how breathtaking—no longer fills the ache that’s settled somewhere between your ribs and your willpower. You look at the mountain and whisper, not tonight. There’s a strange beauty in surrendering to stillness. In stepping off the…

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  • The Awakening of the Glass

    There once was a time when everything shimmered with mystery. When the air itself felt alive, and even silence hummed with potential. Before the awakening, before the glasses were put on, life was new—untamed, glowing at the edges. You didn’t yet know that truth could sting, that knowing could cost you softness. Back then, wonder…

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  • The Sound Between Words

    Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil—that’s what someone once said, wasn’t it?But who decides which is which?The whisper between light and shadowis thinner than breath,and yet the whole world trembles on it. A chance encounter—not with what is,but with what we believe it to be.Every thought a vibration,every word a stone dropped…

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  • The Witch’s Warning

    What was mine but taken from me shall be returned.One. Two. Three.The staff strikes the earth. The sound cracks through the air like thunder splitting the bones of silence. The old spirits stir. Dust rises. The world tilts to listen. Hear this:What is mine is not yours.What you took in greed or deceit, what you…

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  • The Bed I Made

    This is my voice—the one you didn’t want to hear. The one you said tore holes in your calm, wounded your ego (you called it your heart), and echoed too close to your truth. I am the voice you silenced while pretending to listen, the one that whispered wake up while you slept soundly in…

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  • The Sleepwalkers of the Machine

    Plenty of people will hate you in this lifetime—let them. It’s fewer names to remember, fewer voices echoing in the hollow halls of your mind. To be hated means you’ve disturbed the dreamers. You’ve become a light too bright for those content in the dark. Hatred, after all, is just a sign that you’ve stepped…

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  • The UnGOSPEL DREaM

    There are no more nights for wishes.No more upturned faces whispering to falling stars.The heavens don’t trade in longing anymore—they only echo what already is. We walk the trembling linebetween here and there,between the heartbeat of matterand the breath that keeps pretending it’s alive.The walls hum in color now,breathing, shifting,wearing masks of meaningfor those who…

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  • The Debt of the Dreamers

    There is madness here—between the spaces where sound should sleep.A photogenic imagination plays its reels again, remembering everything that ever was, even the parts we tried to burn.The student has left the classroom.The chalk dust still floats where lessons once lived.They’ve become the teacher now—the one who stares at the sky and whispers, think the…

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  • The Dream Inside the Dream

    It’s the dream inside the dream again—the most persistent one. The one that waits at the edge of sleep like a familiar ghost, holding open the curtain to the next act. Every night, it picks up where we left off, as if time itself decided to take a cigarette break and forgot to clock back…

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  • The Place Between the Clouds

    It’s a magical place between the clouds where all things are possible. Nothing heavy ever falls here. The air hums with the soft energy of creation, and every thought you have blooms into color. It never rains—because even the storms know they’re meant to dance, not destroy. It’s you, and you again. Layers of your…

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