Friday, August 11, 2006

Anti-gravity love

Dear Jane,
I have been watching you from up here, not you in particular (all I can see is the Great wall of China, really) but I can see the whole of Earth and I presume you are still on the dear planet. How are things? If you think you feel bad because of the weather (I can see it all) then you probably want to get yourself a good umbrella because from what I can tell, it's gonna be a rainy week.

I write to tell you how much I love you. Love is a funny thing and I never really understood it until I was up here. I guess all I needed was space. Now I have loads of it. Actually, 13.7 billion light years of it. That's in radius. The rest we know fuck all about. Sometimes, I think of how its funny in a way that you are probably down there sitting with the cat and watching Pop Idol while I am here, suspended in universe on my floating recliner and watching the whole of mankind. Even then, you are not so different you and I (well, actually we are; what with you applying anti-gravity aging cream and me up here an exception to gravity). I wish I could send you a falling kiss but it would probably take a while to reach you anyway so I just wish and don't bother.
Remember what I told you before I left, I think, "If you cheat on me then I'll kill you bitch" were the exact words. Well, do you remember? I only mention it because we have all the equipment on our space station and you'd be surprised how much we can see from up here. I can tell you right now that you are wearing that stupid magenta top that I hated and what is that right next to your left hand??!!! Is it an astray?? I thought I told you to quit you bimbo. I'm not coming home after feeling like a tennis ball for five years to the queen of cancer. It better not be an ashtray. And for God's sake take out the garbage. How can you live like that? Those onion rings on your lap remind me too much of Saturn and you know when they say it-stinks-to-high-heaven, guess who is in between. That's right me. I can smell them from up here.

Remember what I said on our first date, I think "Your face is like the moon and your eyes are stars" were the exact words. I've been thinking a lot up here on my own and I think that compliment was the rambling of a drunken idiot. But then again, I had nothing to drink that night. I digress. My point is that the compliment was really, really blown under proportion. I just walked on the moon last Friday and it's nothing like your face (save the acne) and as for the stars, don't even get me started because I don't think you'll understand.

Please don't take anything the wrong way. It's just that all this floating around has made me want to kill myself and the whole cute planet before me. At times I get urges of pressing buttons here so that bad things will happen down there but these are bad urges and Willy (he's a friend of mine I met in my head) says that I should pay them no heed. Besides, I am here to contact intelligent life. Speaking of intelligent life, could you please shut that fucking Hearsay album you listen to every evening. Our radiowaves are full of this sort of I-love-you-baby-forever-no-matter-what-they-say pop gibberish and I think it may erase every possibility of contacting intelligent life.

I think about you all the time but then I realize that missing is something you do on Earth when missed is out of bounds. So I watch you all the time and go to play with myself on the moon where literally, no one in the world is watching. Well, of course the whole world is watching the moon and saying how beautiful it is but they'd never guess that I am pleasuring myself in their bare faces while the idiot lovers compare each other to the moon. It's sad really but I think I'm taking a giant step for me and a small step for mankind. Think about it, solo act in space! I could give you details about how one could use the lesser gravity to one's advantage but you couldn't connect to it because you will never be up here. If you keep eating those mince pies like you do, you'd be lucky if you could get up from the couch in two years. I don't want to think about such nightmares, not now.

Anyway, take care. I'll always be loving you. And watching you. So remember what I said. Not the moon bit; the cheating bit. And switch the nightlamp before you sleep every night like I told you to or else it may just cost you the Earth. I'm in no mood for wasting resources.
Love,
Bruce.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home