Since the first night in Sumba, stargazing quickly became my favourite night time activity here: I can’t describe why since it gives me this inexplicable tranquillity within me. But all of that changed since yesterday-night.

I’ve finally acquired the chance to read The Little Prince, and I have to say, it’s an adorable little novel. The ending left me feeling bittersweet, but my eyes only savoured the bitter taste; I really shed a tear once again because of a fictitious story, but nonetheless it was a pleasant one. 

Now, I cannot stargaze the same anymore; every time I look upon a star, I would always see a prince and a rose by any other name. Yet, I can now describe the tranquillity that resides within me, and the sadness, and the joy it may give: It only further expands the meaning of star, and the little things around me. 

It’s full of neat metaphors I can now see all around me, and I would like to thank the writer for telling me his story, even if it isn’t for me, or anyone in particular. I’m also sending The Little Prince’s regards for him. : )