sorry, sagan (english version)

let us imagine for a moment–or at least for the duration of this read–that we are alone. that, in the vast and obscure mystery of the universe, there is only one place where, by a miraculous conjunction of events and the unique characteristics of matter/time, this thing we have come to name earth has formed–and so has this thing that we call life. and that the rest of the cosmos consists of an inconceivable number of galaxies and stars, nebulae and black holes, comets and asteroids, but above all, planets. planets flush with volcanoes and rocks and gasses; planets shaped by ice or clouds or seas, planets beautified by rings–or graced with one, two, or fourteen moons. giant or dwarf planets, bright, gloomy, incandescent, icy planets; all floating, all mysterious, all truly wonderful–but none, not one, as fortunate as ours.

and let’s keep imagining that this place–this pale blue dot–as you rightfully called it, sagan–is the only place where we can experience birth and growth–where we love, hate, laugh, cry, fall, learn, reproduce, age, die, reminisce, forget, and blossom, all while spinning around the sun every twenty-four hours.

and so, those human attempts to explore other planets would remain just that–failed attempts, withered dreams, useless ideas, billionaire obsessions. we would discover that, in the end, the moon is dark and cold, and summers in mars too red and too dusty for a walk in the park or for sunday picnics; that to reach cosmic europe, traversing the oceans or learning french is not sufficient; and that in addition, all these places have a view of earth. and then, one day, on one of those clear nights, we would die of sadness by simply seeing it there, alone, distant, abandoned, hurt, depressed, and still, beautiful and blue and pale, radiant and alive, full of air. and at that moment (even if i were the only one,) i would get up, and without thinking twice, i would pack my bags, start my spaceship, and before taking off, i would yell at everyone: “i’m going home, you fucking martians / wannabe lunatics / pissed-off Jupiterians. ¡earthlings: who is coming with me?!” and i’d like to think that most would stand up and we would rush off together and return to the place where we belong, that place which we have abandoned in the distance. and together, we would make one last effort to rescue it. the greatest and most conscious effort that we have ever made to this day, regardless of whether it was too late or impossible, knowing that we would likely die trying, but with the certainty that we would die at home. and upon our death, the universe would be left alone. completely alone.  

Publicado por purasletras

soy las letras de alguien, no la biografía de alguien. no me gustan las mayúsculas.

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