Light and mass. It's the phrase in my bio, because it is what I'd consider the epitome of what it is to be a star, in my opinion anyways.
I think it's the thing I admire about them the most. I also think it does stem from a fascination with stellar mortem, as I've been known to wax poetic about that.
And how could I not? To burn to brightly, so incredibly, that you must burn your own mass. The passion of your existence is so great, you must cannibalize yourself in order to accommodate it. Until slowly, then all at once, you die. And yes, the way each star dies relies on factors like size and relative mass and elemental composition. But the fact is, at some point, we all give way to gravity, ending our beautiful displays.
And I am in part excited for mine. Not because. I necessarily want to die. But because to burn bright, at the height of my passion, at the pinnacle of existence, is precisely what I exist to do. To die a star's death is the ultimate testament to a life lived in that exact way.
What a tremendous honor.
