I lie on a star, staring up at the sky, and wish for the day when watermelons are free. A patch cord dances by me, wholesale elctronic parts cover the land like so many frogs.
I stare through the infinities of the white sky. Light comes from the reaches of space and attacks my optics like a ninja, throwing shooting stars of violent at my brain and slicing red into my skull.
I hesitate just long enough to whisper "Strange," under my breath. I think back to carnal lust with television and sexual dancing to the sounds of knifes being attacked by over-ripe tomatoes.
"But what about the war?" my advisor screams. My nostalgia gets the better of me.
I rise and approach the Big Thing. It wallows it's satisfaction as I envelope myself witin. It digests me quickly as a reward.
I had death to give to memories.
I long for life again as my universe explodes.