I’ve got a confession to make. I think Mars is really taking a toll on my sanity. I mean, I don’t know any of these people. All of the small talk is just, well, small. We’ve got this giant universe staring out at us and we’re staring back but we don’t know what it has in store. I was never very good at staring contests anyway. It was all I had in me not to laugh. I don’t know why, I guess I just never understood what the point was anyway. What is the point of a staring contest? Willpower? I almost feel like you have no choice in the matter. I mean you have to blink. Same with holding your breath. I mean, you have to breathe. It’s like congratulations, you can postpone death for ten seconds longer than I can. Death gets closer and the higher heels you wear doesn’t change the fact that you’ll still be six feet under someday.
We lost another one of the travelers here. It wasn’t a surprise, traveling to Mars was their last request. He knew he only had a year left to live. And my God, how much living he managed to pencil into that shitty schedule this giant, mysterious, merciless universe handed out. His name was Jonathan Louis. I think he knew Earth wasn’t enough. He wasn’t satisfied with the idea of our world being all there was to living. It almost doesn’t make much sense that we’re all stuck there driving our cars from freeway to freeway off ramp to onramp when we could be out here, exploring the undiscovered. Not what’s left of what humanity has already devoured. Let’s face it, all the third planet is now is leftovers. Chopped liver. A sad excuse for a purgatory.
Jesus, I hope I’m not getting you down. I’m just finding it really hard to be up.
Until next time,