I went to Venus, took a picture with my mobile phone camera, it turned out okay but the acid rain and the heat and the immense pressure got to my nerves so I stepped into my rocket ship again and went home where the crust at least have decency to relieve its internal pressure more often than every 500 million years, so that the entire surface is not cataclysmically changed but more gentle and local, providing a safe habitat for me, my friends and all of my fellow human beings and ants and plants and bees and trees, hell even crabs even though I don't like them - I mean, who can blame me, with their nasty little claws and way too many legs to be reliable and anything with eyes on tentacles simply is nasty but still they got a right to live even though I'd give anything to not having to feel them crawling on my skin, ripping up my chin, touching my eyes with their sharp feet, yeah, I guess I owe the greenhouse effect something if it kills 'em all but no, I don't really believe in killing animals I don't like, I'd never encourage something like that so stop killing off those spanish slugs, you all's such evil thugs, they've done nothing wrong, they're just following their little insticts saying that your garden plants are food, no, I'm not in the mood to see innocent animals getting tortured and killed, and that counts for you too Chinese bastards, keeping those bears in cages like that, they shouldn't suffer just because you can't get it up and that doesn't mean all Chinese people kills bears, sorry if I offended you, I'm such a nut, can't keep my mouth shut, gotta learn how to think things through before I speak but then again - this text wouldn't be, getting hypnotized by words and combinations of such, can't stop even though it's too much, the world is too beautiful not to touch with my eyes and my soul and my voice and my hands, they all want their share of the wondrous things that exist out there - if I only had a million dollars I'd pack my things and just fuck it all, ask my girlfriend "hey come with me - we've got so much to see, you know what lies on the other side of the sea" but that I don't have so I'll just stick to what I've got and even though it's not worth shit on the Stockholm Stock Exchange, my heart's got a lock and the key is on a chain and that key she have turned, locking herself in for all time, for all space, for all existance in more continuums Star Trek writers could ever imagine, not that their imagination is so special, no they stick to pseudoscience and hypotheses when all they really need to do is look closely enough at anything, even a piece of dirt, to see that everything, even a piece of dirt contains such marvels, oh such beautiful things; crystallized minerals, proteins, fats and all manner of things connected in vastly complex networks, filling no specific purpose other than just existing, reflecting light and other radiation, and if you look even closer they'd see even stranger thing, little tiny molecules, like any molecules except, yes, look, it splits in half, it's ripping apart, but it's not dying, it's not being destroyed, no, the halfs heal themself, creating two identical - or at least almost identical - copies of itself, can you answer why that happens well can you, no I didn't think so, no you stick with your empty Borg and Klingon empires that mean nothing, has no beauty, no thought, no profound meaning, that tiny little spiral-shaped molecule says so much more during it's relatively short life-span you wouldn't understand a billionth of it, neither would I but at least I have the honesty to acknowledge it, and no, I am not talking about trekkies anymore, I'm talking of all of you (except maybe some miniscule minority) who just carry on with your pathetic lives as that wonderful great beautiful mystery doesn't exist and instead you invent mysteries that actually is no mysteries, simply because what comes out of your little minds (because it would be an insult to the word "create" to call what you're doing that) are so unnecessary and so destructive and really just a ugly coat of paint over the things that are really there, the real beauty, the real mystery, the real universe with everything spinning, acting, reacting, colliding, constantly creating uncountable waves of events affecting everything in existance and each effect creating uncountable more, creating this vibrating Universe, impossible to observe in its full glory but I wish, oh I wish I could and I wish I could make you understand - it cannot be that you all are stupid, it simply cannot be because then why do I exist, and can we ever communicate or will we simply continue to spin around eachother, having to keep going in circles around eachother, never connecting, always separate, again, what would be the point of such existence, always outside, always distant, always ignored? Even so, I keep writing. I have to. Because beauty has no end.
(Okay, I haven't been to Venus. I took picture of Venus' surface with my phone, though. The original image belongs to Don Mitchell, an extremely talented scientist I admire too much not to credit)