valotar

[valotar]

sometimes i think about the golden record and i want to cry.

just - okay. imagine this. you are an astronomer in the 70s. you don't know if any of the stars in the night sky have planets around them. you think they might, because we're here, dancing with the sun, and that seems like it should count for something, but you don't know. there's the hope, sure, the tug between your heart and your lungs that wants to believe that maybe there's someone else on the other side of the darkness even if you can't see them.

but you don't know.

you want to reach out anyway, just out of pure human hope, so you make a record. make it say hello from planet earth. i hope you are well. we are here. this is what we look like. are you anything like us? this is me, waving. you record rain, wind, laughter. pictures of people smiling. send it out to the stars hoping that maybe someday something with eyes and ears will find it.

and! space is so absurdly, stupidly, incomprehensibly huge, that when you send it out you know that you or any of your direct descendants will never see it reach anything but empty space, an asteroid if you're unlucky. it will take voyager 1 forty thousand years to get within a few light years of a star, and this is rounding up the numbers.

the voyagers have been traveling for almost fifty years and haven't fully even left the sun's gravitational pull. during the time the voyagers have been flying, we've confirmed the existence of the first exoplanet, and then thousands.

we now know that the sky is full of planets. back then, in the 70s, all you could do was hope.

the voyagers were a message in a bottle sent to sail through the darkness even when the odds were, and remain to be, that it will never be seen by anything again.

but we sent it anyway, because we are human, and we don't want to believe that we're alone. we wanted to hold out a hand.

can you imagine the optimism that it takes to do this. to carefully craft a message for something-other to find when you're not even sure there are any other planets out there?

just us, calling out into the dark.

saying are you there.

can you hear us?

i hope you are well.

[valotar]

we used to cram too-many people into my run-down car, held together with duct tape and pure hope, a few hair ties here and there. (it was fine, i promise. old cars were easy like that. my grandpa used to say that if something fell off and he didn't recognize it, it wasn't important. it was a car made for adventures).

we used to just get in the car and go. roll the windows down and laugh through empty streets saying we'll share the ticket if we get one, put the bags and dogs in the back. one time we had so much stuff in there that some of us had to walk up a hill 'cause the car couldn't take all of us.

we were breathless then, always. taking in everything we possibly could and then some. and i'm just reminiscing, i think; the past always seems like that when it's far away. all sweet and golden.

i think i'm just afraid i will always be hungry for more.

[valotar]

i am on the balcony with my popcorn and my book and an old sleeping bag,

in the sun.

the birds are back for the summer, and this is what i've always done.

how wonderful to know that i'm still me, even after everything. and, at the core of it, have always been.

here, in the light, with the sky, dreaming.

[valotar]

what you need to understand is this.

when i was eight my brother broke my face on-purpose. smashed my teeth in. dislocated my shoulder. he used to kick me in the back, trying to damage my kidneys. at some point, he must have broken my nose, and i don't even remember.

and i'm fine now.

but i will always be holding that eight-year-old's hand as she tries to catch her breath.

[valotar]

here is the hardest part:

always ahead.

and you just have to keep going.

[valotar]

i am holding onto this life with tooth and nail, and with my knees scabbed over. do you know what it's like to grow up always gasping for air? i want my goddamn sunlight. now that i'm here i am going to enjoy the view, even with my knuckles white. even with my lungs burning.

[valotar]

i grew up on the wildlands, is the thing. i knew where the bugs and lizards nested and that year they brought new gravel for the railroad i mourned.

the sun is never as yellow anywhere else.

the nights never as long.

[valotar]

the sometimes guide for living:

well.

i guess you have to remember we're all thrown into this, new and without asking. just trying to make it through the storm. and then the next one.

remember we're on a planet. in the vastness of space, among billions of stars, in a shaky little solar system, against all odds. we made it this far and you're here to witness it. hold that in your chest for a bit. ok? ok. all the stars are there for you, even when you can't see them. the moon is your friend. say hello.

eat a lot of fresh fruit. it'll go out of season soon.

dance when you feel like it. sing, even if it's badly. we can all just exist. there's a whole huge world out there and what you can see is such a small part of it. don't worry so much. it's literally fine. you can just be.

smile, yes with your teeth showing, or however feels the most honest.

get your hair wet even if it'll be a hassle later.

buy the shoes.

enjoy the ride.

[valotar]

i think i inherited this moss-covered bark over my heart. this longing for the wind. and i can't really explain it, but

can you hear it? the soft green thump of it? the bugs in the dirt? the rain? the echo?

doesn't it feel like home?

[valotar]

there's this thing in my chest that feels a lot like something feather-light and i'm not sure how to hold it.

am i supposed to?

can't it just be there?

[valotar]

gods, i used to be a fireball.

an ember for a heart.

always burning.

wanting more.

and i know! i know it's better this way! i found a place for myself and i grew up and i'm comfortable here and i don't have to fight and scream and burn anymore, i can just be!

but i just. sometimes i just wonder where did all that fire go.

it's all simmered down now.

it's just a little weird in here without it. that's all.

[valotar]

i miss wildflower fields and misty mornings and long roads into nowhere. days on end of nothing and afternoons that stretched on forever. bike trips to go swim in the river. just wandering around, feeling infinite. taking someones parents car and driving through the night, sneaking in to see some band play, jumping until our feet hurt. i miss running to catch the bus-train-subway, laughing through the busy streets, sitting on the ground eating peanuts waiting for the next one.

i mean growing up i was suffocating half the time, sure, but the other half? my feet didn't even touch the ground. i was running jumping climbing on trees and fences and buildings, eating ice cream straight out of the box on the roof of some house with a friend, laughing into the sunset. screaming against the darkness. i used to disappear into foreign cities with a backpack and half a plan and not see my parents for weeks, jump trains, rollerskate fullspeed through the streets, immortal.

and now i'm living the life i always wanted! i have the sunlight and the plants on my window and the friends that come over for tea! and i love it! but i guess i just still sometimes miss the breathlessness of barely landing between jumps. not caring as much. staying up until six am and laughing into tomorrow. sure, maybe i grew up and i finally have a space i'm comfortable in, and i guess that's good, but i think a part of me still misses something about being a wildling.

i think i miss the wind. that's all.

[valotar]

i'm afraid this stupid wide-open wheatgrass land will always hold a piece of me.

as much as i can't stand it, i think this will always be where the beat of my heart resonates. with the trees and the moss and the turned-over fields, the quiet sky, the hiding places. unfortunately this is where things are simple.

i'm afraid that this will always be where i came from and i guess that means there will always be an imprint.

[valotar]

why do you do it?

well, everyone's got their vices.

yeah, but most people don't choose hard science.

yeah, well.

there is a hole in my chest and i have to fill it somehow. and since i've never really understood this world,

obviously i have to try.

my hands burn with it.

i want to hold something and know the shape of it.

[valotar]

it's rough, the ground, the air, the weather. nothing much grows here, and it is dark half the year. the wind is freezing and we all know it's dangerous here.

still, i think i love it, and there's nothing i can do. my grandpa used to say that the mountains protect those who are lonely or lost, and i think i get it now.

this stupid barren land feels so much like home that it hurts.

[valotar]

here is the picture:

our legs tangled together under the blanket. a quiet understanding. a shared meal over the table, a teacup forgotten. all the time in the world.

[valotar]

i know i grew up in hiding in the dark, but now that i'm out i think i look my best with my face to the sun.

it's easier to breathe here.