I wrote “Shooting Star” when everything around me felt stuck, but inside I was restless and craving change. The lyrics came late at night, and I jotted them down quietly so only I could hear. I wasn’t hiding; I just felt most at home working on my dream alone, where it felt real. The song grew from small, overlooked moments, like singing to empty chairs and wondering if my voice mattered. I tried to shield a fragile hope from other people’s doubts. The verses capture the unseen work, while the chorus reminds me that striving counts, even if I never reach the stars. For me, the shooting star isn’t about instant success; it’s a quiet, steady hope that stays with you. Writing it made me realise that even if no one else was listening, I was still here, still making music, and still moving forward at my own pace. I wrote “Shooting Star” because I needed it, just as the lyrics say.