Do you ever wonder what it would be like to see the moon? Actually see it. Close, at searing range. So you’d be in space therefore. I don’t mean let’s go and stand hand in hand, candidly gawking at a kitchen plate floating blatantly in the sky. I mean, let’s go, into space. Let’s do it, transport our physically numb bodies and under-utilised minds from the tangible tides of highs and goodbyes into the intergalactic limitless nothingness of AWESOME.
We can be there in an instant, if only we could find the nerve to try. The energy reserved for dry, mundane, scheduled tasks that we prioritise over the instinct to dream and be children and fly.
Eat the sour grass! Pluck it up and chew until the tangy residue makes for an onion on your face and a flicker of nostalgia to the heartstrings of the child who always dared to do.
Who ever told us we had to stop doing these activities that garner no financial reward. We, the humans doing, frauds, hoard, sordid and grow bored of our lives before we can even give ourselves the chance to truly fully and without ego, suck the nectar out of them and live them.
Venus waits in the blackness. Jupiter will always bully and assert his bigness. Saturn will hoola-hoop until her obliques overtake her cheeks and ET’s are eating crumpets on Mars whilst we contemplate the irate state of it all. This world.
Earth 🌎 A speck in a wreck of cosmic mess, a pinprick on a whale, a follicle of hair on a hare that can no longer grin and bear it, this rat race.
Fair point to surrender the other planets but never the moon. For as long as we walk, run and talk of demons and dustbins, none and next to lemons will be all but undone if we ever cease to stop and stare at the moon.