take me to a desert. i want to feel the immense heat of the sand on the soles of my bare feet. i want to be overwhelmed by its extreme bareness. i want to see the desert night sky illuminated by gazillions or bazillions of stars.

take me to the bottom of the sea. i want to see the creatures that noone has ever seen. i want to see the octopusses. i want to see just how dark it really is.

take me to the moon. i want to know what earth looks like from there and how still it seems to be. i want to hear how quiet it is. i want to be illuminated in the bright side of the moon and see how dark it really is on the dark side of the moon.

take me to the north pole. i want to see the aurora. i want to be lost in the white. i want to know how life flows when everything is frozen. then take me to antartica. i want to make friends with the penguins.

take me anywhere. far away. then take me home.

by then, i would have been laughing. it would be funny. because i would have realised by then that i could have experienced all this in my own room. extreme quiet, suffocating darkness, complete bareness, unbearable heat, unbearable coldness, being so far away that nothing else matters, billions of stars illuminating my heart, brilliant auroras colouring my life. but i would be happy still. for i would have found friends in the penguins and the octopusses. and when i can't see the stars on a cloudy day, i'll know that it exists anyway. and i'll know what i always had a gut feeling about all along, that there is always hope and there is always something to love and that life is more than this and just this.