"The stars are blazing like rebel diamonds, cut out of the sun"

I start each morning with a daily self-inspection. After brushing away wipsy stray hairs from my face, I stare at myself long and hard in the bathroom mirror, tracing the contours of my face with searching eyes.

"Why haven't I found it yet?"

Night bus rides become long journeys of soul searching, of thoughts and unsaid words scribbled roughly in a bag-worn notebook.

Do you know even the birds fly in some formation? I used to watch them every morning from my balcony while consuming my usual bowl of cereal. A secret dance of life that only they know.

I want in on the secret.

The fly overhead with a series of chirps that spell out "live with your heart".

If only it was that easy.