The Alchemy of Stardust

Dear Delyara, I used to look at the stars and feel small, but tonight, looking at the ink on my fingers, I feel like a creator. We are taught that our pain is "trash"—something to be hidden. But at Delyara, we are taught that pain is just unrefined stardust. I wrote about the dreams that didn't come true. It felt like I was writing in a language only the night sky understands. There is a strange magic that happens when you stop fighting the darkness and start writing through it. The ink seems to glow. My sorrow didn't disappear, but it changed shape. It stopped being a shadow and started being a constellation. My story has found its home among the stars, and now, I can finally look up without fear.