Man, I never saw this coming. Saturn was the last place I wanted to end up. And here I am, on this unmanned spaceship headed for what feels like a haunted mansion in the sky. It’s crazy to think about how different life was just a month ago. Breathing used to be second nature, but now I can’t do it without thinking about you. It’s like my whole world has been turned upside down.
“But you’re all alone up there, and those radio signals? They’re about to give up.”
Manipulating the controls aboard this sophisticated contraption, I encounter an unending sequence of error messages. Oxygen levels? Verified. Fuel reserves? Confirmed. My heartbeat, a pulsatile metronome, now assumes the semblance of Morse code.
Alas, I find myself unable to decipher its cryptic message; it unravels as an intricate, enigmatic cipher – dit dit dot, dit. Indeed, it’s as though the cosmic ballet within me were protesting the indignity of simplification, a cosmic protestation.
I woke up from this surreal coma, and nothing in this new reality makes any sense. I’m haunted by how my brain conjures up entire galaxies in my mind. Brown eyes locked onto mine, and those coffee-colored spheres, so close they could spark a fire. It’s like magnetic, electric energy. Are we talking about planets or eyeballs here? And outside? The world is eerily silent. Space, it’s like some random poetic masterpiece. But those four unbroken galaxies, they were something else. Two and two, locked in a cosmic dance. Have you ever seen brown eyes under the sun? You should. They were creating and embarking on remarkable universes. And now, I’m lost in one.