“And I heard as it were the noise of thunder…”.

-Who wants flowers when you’re dead?  Nobody-.
(Holden Caulfield. The Catcher in The Rye, by J.D. Salinger, 1951).

.

Lips cracked by exposure, the young, beautiful woman was standing in the middle of the street, looking up to the sky with her pale-blue eyes, as if she could see anything beyond the smoggy, starless night of the city.

Nobody was paying attention to her, but just because she didn´t want them to: feeling alive and connected was all she needed right now. Feeling complete, loved by all the countless unmaterial beings that formed this world. Her world.

Ah, she was happy and ready to enjoy all of it: the pain, the misery, the joy and the pleasure.

Her name was Death. And she was here to stay.

Walking on the Moon.

-La violencia engendra violencia solamente cuando una de las dos partes implicadas no ejerce la violencia suficiente-.
(Jose Alberto Ruiz-Carrillo).

.

And I miss that time when we were young, and The World was within our mind-reach. Those times when Science was limited, the theories just a handful of them, and all the hypotheses were valid for more than a few weeks.

Anything was possible while nothing had yet been deemed impossible, and The Future was bright with dreams and mirages: tin foil-covered people, flying cars and teleporting machines. Protein pills to feed us all and a peaceful society which would just live and let live.

That time could have led to a better nowadays, full of stupid things that would have made living in this planet way more bearable than it´s right now.

I guess it´s just worse to know that a good future was in your hands and you just let it slip away than knowing that all this mess was going to come upon you and your people anyways.

What if parallel spacetimes do actually exist? Would they be as fucked-up as ours is?