Brave and Mischievous

I had a dream that all the stars in the sky were just projections.  That light pollution and smog finally blotted out all of the real stars, and that the government tried to return the sky to its former beauty so it projected stars into the night.  

But it felt sad.  They weren’t beautiful, just yellow dots, some forming shapes, on a grey sky.  No twinkling.  The world felt enclosed, as if it were a prison.  The sky that once showed us what lied beyond our own world, that once had light that traveled thousands of years to reach us from unimaginable distances, now only showed our poor interpretations, our desperate attempt to return the mysterious beauty of the night sky.

When I woke up I felt very sad.