The End of the Earth

The Beauties of Earth

It's been awhile since I last wrote a transmission, at least, it feels like awhile. Time seems to slow when tragedy is so close. It still feels indecisive, as if the Earth holds her breath in waiting.


I woke up early this morning to view the sunrise... I've been doing that lately. It's so beautiful here. It is truly a picture you would find nowhere else. The knowledge that I gaze kindly upon the thing set to kill me is strange. Could there be greater irony than that? Probably.


The sun makes me feel lonely these days. How I wish for someone to look at me the way I look at the sun. Or to feel the warmth of another in the same harmony as the beams cast through my windows at noon - a desire I will never know.


Created to be

Filled with unholy desires

Yet barred from my mind.


I regret not taking a chance on love while I still had the time...


If I am reborn, I'll have hopefully learned from my mistakes. I'd like to find love in another life, a life where fear does not govern my every action...


Love, in creation

Can be the scariest feat

Man may ever know.


A more cynical version of me, perhaps the me from many Sols ago, would say love was not real. Would say love could not exist. Would say many things, in truth. Many untrue things. I cannot lie, the younger me was inexperienced and gullible. It is the fool who believes that feelings are constructions of reality rather than perceptions of it. I was the fool. Love could not exist because love could not be tangibly proven nor reproduced on a mass scale - it must be a figment. Feeling is not an object, though. Feeling is... nebulous.


I often wonder why no one corrected me. Perhaps they were too busy with their own lives and concerns. I should have taken notes. Maybe then I wouldn't have ended up here. Maybe then I'd live as long as everyone else.


It's better not to get lost in the 'what-ifs' of the world.