chaos-walking

For me it's all about creating chaos.. and then getting away with it.

No one ever seems to wonder what happens if it turns out we hate living on a planet? What if the sky__ too big? What if the air stinks? What if we go hungry?___nd what if the air tastes of honey? What if there__ so much food we all get too fat? What if the sky is so beautiful we don__ get any work done because we__e all looking at it too much?

A peace that blacked yer eye,' I say. 'A peace that split yer lip.' He looks at me for another second and then gives a sad snort. __he words of a sage,_ he says, __n the voice of a hick.

THERE IT IS,_ my mother says, and what she means is that the dot we__e been nearing for weeks, the one that__ been growing into a larger dot with two smaller dots circling it, has now become even larger than that, growing from a dot to a disc, shining back the light from its sun, until you can see the blue of its oceans, the green of its forests, the white of its polar caps, a circle of colour against the black beyond.

And I look right into his eyes, right into him as far as I can see, because I want him to hear me, I want him to hear me with everything I mean and feel and say.

Hope may be the thing that pulls you forward, may be the thing that keeps you going, but that it's dangerous, that it's painful and risky, that it's making a dare in the world and when has the world ever let us win a dare?