The girl that speaks to the moon.

And so I sit alone in an empty, Rite Aid parking lot speaking to the bright moon that hurts my eyes.
Who am I speaking to...God...A higher power...Myself...to Nature?
Why is it that I have the impulse on a freezing night to numb my body with the air's cold breath, and the peace of me taking the moment in?

Should I question my actions, or should I let them be?
Often in art, or literature, we question what the artist was thinking, and at times we get into a even deeper meaning then the one thought about (or ironically perhaps not thought about) by the author or the artist.

Why do we as humans feel the need to constantly dissect, over think, and overload our mind with daunting rhetorical questions?

Why is it that human nature makes us ask someone a question when we have already answered it in our head as they debate out loud in front of us?
Why is it that everyone's so busy and doesn't have time to meditate and think quietly?
Is everyone ACTUALLY busy, or is everyone 'BEING BUSY' just to distract themselves away from their thoughts, and insecurities?

People don't open up to the difficulties they're experiencing and instead blockade them as if they don't exist. No matter the situation or life experience someone has, they're all common themes-happiness, frustration, low confidence, body image, doubts;etc.
We can ALL relate to each other, but it's sadly religion, culture and society that separates us, instead of unifying us based on our similarities. We are the human race.
My intensity can't be silenced. I will question rather than please.
I love being alive, this awake, this enthusiastic, this passionate, this loud...this extroverted...this aware...this observatory...this curious.
And so I remain talking to the moon, as if the bold white light is guiding my path into the future.