So You Want to be A Star? – a creative essay

So You Want To Be A Star?

Z.C. Angel

After a long day, lots of sweets, and miscellaneous chatter we ended the night sitting outside in front of a bar that served food and drinks. I looked up at the night sky and only a few stars could be seen; more than what I normally saw in NYC. Out of nowhere, a friend of mine told me that they want to be known as a star. Not a movie star but an actual star. Why? Honestly, to this day I still don’t know why.

I told them that it was a nice dream and I also told them the harsh yet sad truth.

“Go ahead and become a star. Stars have their fifteen minutes of fame and then whither out into nothing. Unlike an actual movie star; once your light flickers away, you go supernova and are no longer a star. You are nothing but remnants of what you were. No one remembers you and boom…another star takes your place.

Sure stars are famous because they form constellations, lighten the dark night (well actually the Moon does that). Heck the flashes from the cameras that are taking photos of actual movie stars brighten the darkest alley way more.

So imagine if you are reborn as a star. Oops, no constellation for you. No next door neighbor as cool as the North Star because you are a crumb to its diamond persona.

All you have to look forward to is never becoming as popular or as huge as the BIGGEST STAR a.k.a. the Sun.

You just float in the sky/space staring at what you could never be and wait for death to take you. You may not even become a wishing star, so it’s not like you can fly across the sky and grant someone a wish.

  • News flash: stars don’t grant wishes; pixies do. So keep wishing like all those Disney folks.

Your theme song is not: “Diamonds” by Rhianna; however, it’s “All By Myself” by Eric Carmen.

Sometimes people count stars at night. Imagine if they skip you when they are counting because you are so small.

If that isn’t bad enough…you’d be made up of dust and gas from a nebula; a cloud of dust and gas. There are no cute Care Bears living on those clouds.

You’re basically dust in the wind with a little shine.

You are born. You live. Then you die just like a human being. You start off as a protostar and transition your way into a white dwarf (Hobbit status or Travelocity status).

Stars can be unique and special just like you. The only difference is that as a human you can decide where you want to be unique and special. Shine bright like a teacher, doctor, scientist, hooker, pimp, musician, mother, father, serial killer or zoologist anywhere in the world.

As a star you are born in a gassy dust cloud and stay put where you are. You can only hope that you are part of Orion’s Belt, or The Big Dipper. I’d hate to be the star living in the Sun’s shadow.

Final thought: Be a star. Risk it. Just don’t come running to me when your light dies out and you dust your way out of existence. Remember the bigger star you are the faster your flame burns; in other terms, you die quicker,” I said as my order of fries and Vodka Coke were placed on the table by our cute waiter.

My friend looked at me and said, “Wow.” They ate a fry and said while chewing, “All I wanted to be was a star. You know what I mean?”

I responded with, “Yep. I have my own star and it twinkles. It is kept alive through a nursery rhyme… I’ll sing it.”

I snapped my fingers and sung,

“Twinkle, twinkle big ass star

Show bitches how bright you are.

Up above the world so high

Tell that girl Felicia, bye!

Twinkle, twinkle big ass star

Show bitches how bright you are.”


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