Imagine floating here, somewhere between Sirius and the unknown, in a space
that’s neither warm nor cold, but just... perfect. You ever sit and wonder
what a nebula would hum if it had a voice? Like, a ballad wrapped around
star dust and light-year memories.
Sometimes, when I'm tangled in the cosmos' embrace, I scribble notes on
the edges of space-time. Notebooks filled with melodies of the galaxies,
just waiting to be played. I hear they’re kind of jazz, kind of symphony,
all rolled into one. There’s always a sax somewhere, you know?
Among the stars, the tunes are different. You can hear some in the rustle
of comet tails, others in the soft glow of quasars. Have you ever danced
with a pulsar? They have rhythm, like a heart beating in the void.
So many harmonies, so many directions. Each whistling star a note, each
galaxy a crescendo. That's why I love the universe; it's the ultimate
mixtape.