What are we doing in outer space?
Why do we always pursue the beyond?
I suppose it´s human nature,
but when does progress become a basic waste of time?
Modern science,
the age of oil,
Love in the time of Fossil fuel.
Waiting for things to change,
waiting for the gifts of life,
happiness, love,
an upward swing from where we have grown down.
There is a loneliness that comes with living without a community,
the life of a lone nomad,
at home nowhere, and everywhere,
and the fellows of his heart are constantly lost,
but never forgotten
on the long strange ride around the planet.
He disapears,
constantly searching for a place,
never fully content,
always searching,
seeking a home and love,
and some purpose,
in a modern world of dilapidated meaning.
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