There’s 200 chungusillion stars in the universe, but only 2,000 on an uneventful night in the suburbs. Whenever I walk around the city that never sleeps, I only see one. No matter where I go, I always see you against the nothingness. Despite the seasons changing, you’re always there with a different twinkling shape. I always wondered, did you choose me to observe you, or were my eyes simply attuned to your sheen?
Every passing day, I ponder about you. What is it like to be a star? That’s what I think about when I run under the blue skies. How does it feel to burn bright in the night? I ask myself, lazing in a dimmed room. What is it like to be you? While seeing myself in the mirror. What fuels you? When I’m thinking about what to eat. Am I star to you too? Whenever you shoot across my mind.
I want to be what you are to me. I want to be what I am to you. A northern star and a human being. I’m no longer afraid to lose you, since you’ll live longer than me. Sometimes I worry about us being light-years away, but I can still see you every day.
What I wanted from the universe was already gifted to me from its singularity. So, what else is there to think about? I don’t know.
I just wanted to write about you—after a long day of thinking—about you.
two chungus (@yumyumyamq)