I’ve been on the moon for a large part of this year. I’ve been needing to escape from something that’s causing upheaval in my psyche. I feel something is fundamentally wrong in regards to everything going on. It’s as if the world relented and found comfort and solace underneath a veil, accepting it even though we cannot see the provider’s face. The unknown and unseen is in charge, and perhaps they’ve been so this entire time. But the moment the clock rolled over to midnight on 2021, I knew things had the potential to be catastrophically different. What I underestimated was my own will in wanting to deal with it.

It’s easy to not care that you’re living in Hell World. This is Hell on Earth. I’m convinced of it’s existence. And frequent trips out of this world start to become necessary. Saddle up and ride on the soonest space shuttle, and blast off, you’re on another plane of existence. You’re free from all the worries that exist in Hell World. They suddenly don’t matter. Everything can go on just as it’s meant to there, and it all just rolls right off your back. You’re on the outside, watching Earth get smaller and smaller as you power away through the solar system. It’s fun. There’s a smile on your face as you go higher and higher, leaving it all back on solid ground as you explore the vastness of the universe.

But you can’t stay there forever. Because a perpetually self-pacifying state is no way to live. 

All the problems I think I’m escaping still exist. I may watch them through a hazy lens as I’m sky high into the atmosphere, but they’re still there. There’s still constant fighting and bickering and the eating of one’s own team. There’s those who tell you how you should think, or where the problems exist, or who to blame for this very large and complicated societal issue. There’s the handshakes behind closed doors that we don’t know about, only for them to be packaged and sold to us in easily-digestible bits. And all we’ve got is a word of trust from those above us, telling us it’s good for us. Trust us, we know best. It’s all one big complainfest and it all makes its way upward as I sit comfortably in my spacesuit. 

So then what’s the point of me even ascending if all my problems, and the problems of the world, can still find me?

I’m never going to amount to anything if I don’t face things head on with a mind that is not constantly in the clouds. Above it all, I’m clouding my own judgment, making my crash to Earth even more dramatic, and potentially dangerous. I’m going to try an even keel again, one that involves a major choice to change instead of a temporary pitstop I can revisit at any time. I’m tired. I’m wasting my chances. I so badly want to feel the terra firma underneath my feet and I want it to last. I don’t know why I’ve been choosing a path of self-destruction this whole time, for years even. I just know it’s time to stop. To strive for clarity in a world that seems so blurred by the optics. I can do the exploration when it’s necessary to, not as a means to placate myself into believing I’ve got everything under control.

I just hope now that I’ve survived reentry, I don’t have to walk this Earth alone anymore.

I left my heart in parts unknown long ago.

I’m hoping for one final trip to explore where else I could find it.

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