Why Fallen Star?

Inconsistency.

 Feverish bursts often give way to long-winded lulls of apathy. A disciplined mind means nothing without a passionate heart. For it is the passionate heart that guides the disciplined mind through the bog of inevitable anxieties and hesitation. It is a passionate heart that builds a developed mind.

Flowery speech.

A rosy tint in bitter words much like a sip of rotten Tequila Rose. A fancy suit for a day of watching Netflix. A garment to add value to shallow words. Fragments of flowery speech have always been my thing. During moments of inconsistency, fragments of flowery speech soothe me.

Doodling with words.

A forgotten skill that I once thrived in. A skill I once unlocked a powerful heart with. A heart other than my own. But it was the once passionate heart of mine that fueled those doodles. The visions have gone quiet and what remains is what is before me.

Absence.

My passionate heart is absent. It's absence has covered rooms and streets in black suffocating fogs. The future has grown bleak for one who shone brightest against the darkness. Why Fallen Star? Why are you the only thing that I see in the mirrors? Why are you the one hiding my dreams? Why do you not rise?

Fallen Star

A moniker I adopted for my sketchbook persona. His past promised a bright future. His present promises nothing. His future taunts him with visions of anguish, trepidation, and death. The name is what I am.

From her eyes

A Fallen Star has come down to radiate the surrounding frigid wasteland with light and warmth. A Fallen Star is a granted wish promising hope.

Which eyes are correct? Only time will tell.