I often like lying on my back, looking up at the ceiling for no particular reason other than that I'm tired from the rigors of sitting on my arse all day. Of course, I'm not doing this on train tracks or on a sidewalk, or in my office where people have to step over me in order to get to the copier. Mostly I do this at home with a roof over my head, but occasionally I get to do this outside, and the best times are when I'm looking up at the stars.
Stars is such a great word. It's shimmery and sparkly and makes me hope and dream and battle against the finite nature of my human brain in order to imagine what's out there beyond stars. I've known for many years that stars are far-away suns, and that most of them have already died and only now is the light reaching us. (I mean, okay. That's a good story and everything.) Even so, I still like the idea of their stationary positions in my night sky, and I like that they are there in the same spot whether I'm looking at them from California or from a beach in Greece.
I like the word because it's simple and still manages to sound otherworldly and dreamy. And it has so many applications. Stars refer to anything sparkly, or dead suns (supposedly), or celebrities, or people who achieve extraordinary results.
Looking up at the stars makes everything seem like it's possible, doesn't it? Stars don't know anything about confidence issues or a broken plot or rejections. They just shine at you, and you just let them shine on you, and you're good. And that's all you can really ask of something out there in the sky.
Moby -- The Stars