This was written years ago, on my eighteenth birthday. (I intended to respect myself and not make any modification to the original script.)
When I look up at the sky, I see not any stars;
Nor do I see any planet, moon, cloud, neither any comet.
What I see are faces.
Faces, looking down at me, speaking to me and calling me…
Every face forms a star; and every star — a face.
Some laugh, some cry, some mock
And the rest haunt.
Some of the faces are known when some of them are strangers
I know those strangers. Don’t I?