When December turned to January, and the clouds had no colour, the strangest thing happened to me. I realised I was a thousand years old, but I knew way too little. So i decided to go on a balloon ride across star paths. Not only did I meet the watery Neptune who gave me my tears and the stormy Jupiter who tempered my blood, but I also happened to meet the fiery Mars. Whilst I was floating by, Mars stopped me, asked to converse with me. I told Mars about my dead flowers and my semi-precious fish bowl. Mars took me on a little tour of his sphere and gave me a hammock beneath one of his red, rocky dunes. It’s April now- one solar eclipse and two months later. I’m back home, but there’s red dust still stuck to my hair ends. I’m back home now, it’s all the same- the earthy skies, the aging soil, all except me. I will never be the same again, because i chalked no maps, but let the wind carry me across chance, you know, of the cosmic kind.