Optima

i actually jumped

Aren't we romantic? 🤣❤️

Happy Thanksgiving! 🦃 Watch if you dare. 💩😂

His view. (Monologue Song)

The Parable of the Star Gardener Once, in a vast cosmos, there lived a brilliant gardener named Elios who dreamed of filling the universe with light. He had a gift: he could plant stars in the sky, each one a spark of his own making. With every star he planted, the heavens grew brighter, and the people below marveled at his creations. Elios took pride in his work, saying, “These stars did not ask to shine; I brought them forth, and so I must tend to them.” In his early days, Elios nurtured each star with care. He polished their glow, adjusted their orbits, and ensured they burned bright and steady. But as his ambition grew, he began planting more stars—faster than he could tend to them. Soon, the sky was ablaze with countless lights, and Elios basked in the awe of the onlookers. Yet, he stopped visiting his older stars, leaving them to flicker alone in the dark expanse. One day, a faint star—the first he’d ever planted—dimmed and cried out to him across the void. “Elios, you gave me life, but now I fade. Why have you forgotten me?” Elios, busy planting a new cluster, brushed off the plea. “There are so many of you now,” he said. “I must keep creating—I’ll tend to you later.” But later never came. Over time, the neglected stars began to wane. Some burned out entirely, leaving holes in the once-dazzling sky. Others drifted off course, their light turning chaotic and dim. The people below, who once praised Elios, began to whisper: “He plants stars but lets them die. What good is a gardener who abandons his own garden?” The newer stars, though bright at first, noticed the fate of their siblings and grew restless, their light tinged with unease. One night, Elios looked up and saw his sky unraveling—patches of darkness where brilliance once reigned. He realized too late that his gift was not just in planting but in tending. Each star, born of his will, carried a piece of him, and their fading was his own diminishment. “I said they didn’t choose to shine,” he murmured, “yet I left them to burn alone.” In the end, Elios stood before a half-lit sky, his hands still full of new seeds but his heart heavy with the ones he’d lost. The cosmos waited to see if he’d plant anew—or turn back to nurture what he’d already sown. This parable mirrors the tension between creation and responsibility. Elios, like someone who keeps expanding a family without tending to those already there, risks losing the very legacy he seeks to build.