The Wandering Astronaut

Written and designed by Harry Bruns

Numb. Drifting. Wandering. I’m in a spacesuit in the viscous galaxy. Floating through space, time running slowly. When we close our eyes, do we time travel? If I close mine where will I go? The past. The future. Or rolling ahead with current times, in spacial slumber?

Conjecture.

Simply I don’t know in the vast vacuums of space. Just drifting out amongst the stars. Up close, they illuminate your way in space, holding you together like a photo album - memories untold that keep you going. Black holes aren’t so kind. Memories you wish you’d forget, people too. You take the rough with the smooth. The galaxy here is winding, casting out my journey and where I must go and where I must not go. The ecstasy of colour bursts through my mind, great chunks of the galaxy illuminated with time. Deep blue mostly fought off by raging red, supported now in a battle for the stars with green. Much beauty never experienced and always experienced by me.

Sometimes, I am allowed to walk planets as an observer on the outside of civilisation. Endless miles of joy and happiness, the things I cling to in space. Meeting people can happen and they make me smile. Although it’s not for very long. Every second that passes, they grow further away. The cold, machinations of the galaxy. The superlative souls of joy. I fear I am condemned to one but I keep going. Never stopping. I have a purpose.

Time? It ticks away. In space in the suit of an astronaut, seconds seem like millennias. There’s no one there. There’s no one here. But you have to keep going. If I am here long enough, I’ll drift and my purpose will be over.

A goal I have.

I’ll keep going. The purpose is lost sometimes. Finding something. Drifting always. Cutting through space and time. You have to stay happy. A light will come out of knowhere. Hold out your hand and reach it. The goal. Or something entirely different. Ask yourself questions perhaps? Is there life on….

Mars? Jupiter? Earth? A planet to get to. A symphony plays your song as you swagger off through life. Many songs you believe in characterise you. And you characterise them too.

There is the thrill of life and the beauty of it all. You make it your own. Again you play songs on the guitar. Faster, more energetic, more powerful than you’ve ever played. You believe in yourself because you know who you are and you believe in what you’ve become. A rockstar. Living life on the edge and having fun is what life is all about.

You’re lost to the waves of time. Rocking away like a ship. The music opens and takes you in, comfortably….