Another point of view

I laid down on the concrete step outside of the house, and then whatched those unpaintable branches of the fire tree, showered by the yellow electric light of the city and the silver one from the moon. Little white twin stars upon my eyes, floating high into a night blue canvas, becoming darker with the height, thus universal. Dogs barking, cocks shouting and crickets singing their nature out, making me know that sometimes the persective we see the world with, is more important than the world itself.

Everything changes, but doesn't make us different, we just change along. Acting is the difference, so we better make the best out of it.