Many people say that I have pretty eyes. Like it’s a simple thing, like beauty is only what lives on the surface.

They tell me how they sparkle, how they shift in the light, changing shades like they’re playing a game- grey to brilliant blue, soft to storm- as if my eyes were made only for wonder.

But if they looked closer, not just at them, but into them, they might hesitate before calling them pretty.

Because these eyes have carried too much.

They have held onto moments that should have slipped away, scenes that replay in quiet hours when the world finally softens its noise.

There are things reflected here that no light can soften, memories that cling to the edges no matter how brightly I try to look forward.

If they knew what lived behind the color, behind the shine, the weight of it, the quiet ache of remembering, they might choose a different word.

Not pretty.

Maybe heavy. Maybe tired. Maybe something closer to the truth.

Because eyes don’t just sparkle; they witness. They absorb. They remember.

And mine… mine have seen things I would trade anything to forget.

Still, they look at me and smile, captivated by the way the light dances; never realizing that what they’re admiring isn’t just beauty... but survival.

It’s crazy, isn’t it? How much a pair of eyes can hold without ever speaking a word.

You can see the storms someone survived, the nights they didn’t sleep, the moments they wish would fade but never quite do.

Eyes don’t know how to lie very well, even if the rest of the body does. They flicker, hesitate, soften when something hurts, harden when something broke them. You can catch glimpses of laughter still hiding in the corners, or sadness that lingers no matter how wide the smile is.

It’s like looking through a window that was never meant to be opened, but somehow, for a second, you’re let inside.

And in that moment, you don’t just see a person; you see their story.

What do you do when you’re so tired you can’t sleep. You’re so done with the world, but you can’t and don’t want to leave it. You know God is talking to you, but you can’t seem to hear him. You tell yourself to force yourself to do things, but you forget. What do you do?

Humans naturally seek pleasure. But there are different forms of pleasure. God glorifying pleasure the way he designed it, or sinful human pleasure. It should be obvious which is right.

Humans additionally seek escape. They want to hide from their sins. Their atrocities. Their self-made cages. How do they hide? Behind their sinful pleasures and behavior. Something we often forget; Evil justifies itself.

Emotions are like energy. You can’t get rid of them; they just change form. They are dormant until needed or used, and suppressing them is nearly impossible. Unless you pass it on to another person. Then it becomes an endless cycle of emotions but lack of true feeling.

Why do people say animals are equally capable as humans? They clearly aren’t. Have you ever seen a giraffe operate a crane to build a skyscraper? Have you ever heard a whale conduct an orchestra? Have you studied the sky, and it’s weather patterns with a professor who is an earth worm? Bought stocks from a company owned by a polar bear? Cheered on a ferret as he strategically plays a sport like hockey, or football? Though ridiculous, my questions are valid.

I once got a new pillow. It reminded me of how we awkwardly treasure the new and compare it to the drab old. It’s like the new is almost a flitting thought, do we protect it and shelter it so it doesn’t get harmed. It’s as if it could disappear or float away. More like get old. Then we compare it to the ever-staying old. I remember when the old was new and different. Do you?

It also reminds me of how every time something new or better comes along we leap to take it. Somehow instantly forgetting how the old lasted us so long and could continue to do so. Always the next best thing. Where is the satisfaction? The pleasure in what is earned and has lasted?

Humans lack satisfaction.

Brighter. Better. Bolder.

Reaching into the unnecessary beyond to grasp something that will only grow old.

Boring. Useless. Unpopular.

The never ending cycle of dissatisfaction.

Humanity is a tragedy, unless we allow Jesus to save us.

Why do so many young people who have their entire real life ahead of them, choose to spend it watching fleeting clips of other peoples fake lives?

Why do we hide our emotions and choose harmful suppression over honesty? We think people will never understand, and most won't, but what's the harm in trying? And even if it doesn't work, we have the God of the universe who listens to everything we say, even when we don't think he's listening.

Why is patience and respect so hard? I think most people in our modern age don't even know what those truly mean. O r at least what they truly look like. We throw words around, but do we consider their meaning or how people respond? No. We live in an age of self-absorbed people. People who can't get past their own nose. More like screens.

These are my thoughts, my opinions, and perspectives. I would like to know your thoughts on my thoughts if you care to share (and if you're civil).

So,

Farewell Late-Night Thinkers!