Mirth of Saturn

It happens a lot that a moment just vanishes within a blink. You’re no longer sure what there is that you can still capture. It’s all going away as if it has never been here in first place. Seize the moment. You hear this and you go stiff, spending too much time thinking if it’s going to be another mistake. The next thing you realise is that the footsteps have receded into a distance so you can no longer tell where you are and whether or not you’ve followed any steps. So you either turn back or you stand there. Pretending not to be lost, you do not hesitate to choose a direction, because you’ve always been good at making decisions. You know you can’t have it all.
You have a choice. By all means choose. You can go anywhere you want.

There is a bed on which you could sleep for ten years, but as soon as you are underneath the cover, the horror of thought consumes your essence by turning tranquillity and reason into slaves of the wake. You press your eyes shut so tightly, they begin to water. Monsters and noises are rain dancing on the top of your head like nightmares looking to set free. Your planet is getting closer, longing for your long lost company.

Nothing is quite as it seems because you never know the meaning of what you see or experience. They say it doesn’t matter, it just happens. It’s going to be a good day. So why care about the reason of it all?
But truth be told, you never cared.
You just have a myriad of questions of which the answers do not add up to the truth.

Not even the greatest minds in history made it any further, so why would you?
In the end they no longer questioned and that’s the key to mirth. They knew it, of course. The endless string of inquisitions was what made them miserable and despicable. They couldn’t help it. Everything comes with a question; one after the other. It’s hard living and not knowing.
While there are a great number of things of which we know the answer, there are places where we’ve never been, like on Saturn where you wouldn’t survive with merely helium gas.
They say Saturn’s rings are particles of a former moon that smashed apart in a collision millions of years ago. But Cronos prevailed. Titan actually has an atmosphere with gravity so weak, you could strap a set of wings on your arms and fly. Cronos will lift you up.
Only with a heat like yours you will survive the cold.
They say Saturday children are very much influenced by Saturn’s stormy weather. So far away from the sun, what did you expect? Only the cool autumn air can tame your heart and brain, so tender, so homely. With Saturn’s low density you will float on water. (However, where you are now, you will sink into the deepest abyss.)
When listening to the eerie sounds of Titan and Saturn’s rings recorded by Nasa you realise they are similar to the noise which you’d once heard during an unnerving afternoon nap some years ago. It was not the unplugged television after all.
Your first year on Saturn.

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