K. Jacob Wilson
Somewhere along the way, “shoot for the moon” became the advice people hand out like a mint at the host stand. It’s sweet, it’s tidy, it dissolves fast.
But most nights, the honest math is quieter. The moon is far. The stars don’t promise anything. The likelier outcome is just… space. And still, there is something in me that puts on shoes, steps outside, and looks up anyway. Not because I’m certain. Not because I’m trying to win optimism. Just because the unanswered is still beautiful, and I’d rather be the kind of person who keeps showing up to it.
This is a three-minute night walk in poem form, sparking starlight, fade in, fade out, a lantern held low. The music underneath is mine too, one guitar, clean and bright, like a small voice refusing to shout.
If you’re carrying something you can’t quite name, if you’re tired of pep talks that ignore the dark, I hope this feels like company.
Goodnight, from one restless mind to another.
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I’m bad at math in any lighting, but the night makes it look poetic.
Yours in wit, wonder, and occasionally insomnia,
-KJW
