Written by Parker Gray – Portfolio


There is something to be said about the rarity of the night. The way individualism separates the moon from the earth – the way you only know she’s shining when you need her – when you see her. The complexity of the galaxy and all it encompasses consumes me and revolutionizes my every waking thought. It torments my mind and creates a breathtaking dimension inside of me unlike anything I’ve ever known – unlike anything I will ever know. I’m falling.

There is something to be said about the clarity of the day. The way the sky is never-ending and our lives are mere predispositions of nature’s course. I carry this innately destitute feeling in my soul, longing to discover any and everything that could lead me to the edge of fiercely false promises. I’m chasing shadows feverishly down a path, mislabeled by the night. I’ve bathed in crystal blue streams only to return worn and desensitized to the life I was so anxiously seeking. The reality of my existence feels like diamond rain on my skin, rewarding and sharp. My capillaries scream and my lungs collapse. I look up at the moon. I need her. I’m falling apart.

There is something to be said about the tide. They change the course of our very existence without us realizing their presence. I’ve spent years swimming against the current, fighting to break free of the tides that embrace me, the tides that control the movement of my soul. Too sane to live, too strong to die — I am driven to acknowledge that the tides have meant me no harm – they are controlled by the moon and have had no hand in my struggle. At some point, I made peace with the universe and all it has done to me, for I am staring into myself through the reflection of a body of water I’ve not yet identified. I graciously bow out of the fight. I feel myself giving up. Instead, I kneel down in the sand under the black night sky. This beautiful moon looks down on me, mirroring everything I have felt. I lay bare in the water and give myself fully to the tides, for they have brought me to you. I take one last look at the moon – her reflection is your familiar face. And for the first time, I am whole. 

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