first star.

the first star that i see tonight is a girl in pink who crosses dwight avenue the same way comets cross milkyways: gently, softly, brightly.

what i miss: the sweet smell of thit kho in the kitchen. i can't cook the way my mom does. but why do i associate the kitchen with the mother? why don't i think about the way she pays the bills, takes care of my brother, does tae-bo, plays tennis, colors her hair, writers half-novels, paints on the computer, dreams of porshes, and sings when drunk. and where is my brother, trucker-hatted and baseball tee-ed, tonight? trucking his way through la? sleeping to surf at dawn? practicing the guitar in his bedroom?

hanging out with the lin siblings, ronnie and diana, makes me miss my family.

the eels makes me miss poetry.

second star.

the second star that i see tonight is a barrel of apples in the fillmore hallway. there's something magical about listening to music while chewing an apple. you eat something as something eats into you.

for dinner we had mexican food and talked about murdered ducklings and a hate for people who verbally approve of humor. you can blame andinh for the later. hater. actually, i joke. andinh is a sincere soullover.

the third star is being at home with the potential of tomorrow.

i am not at war. i am not bombed. i am not starving. i am not alone. i am not at a loss. i am not poor. i am not disgruntled. i am not without a friend. i am not in prison. i am not housebroken. i am not raped. i am not in the hospital. i am not so many things and i am thankful because what i am is something that i can still control.

watch yourself. more art is on the way. from me and from you.

let's promise ourselves a future that we've always dreamt of.