On Gravity

Have you ever tried treading a path on the dark side of the moon?

It's cold and very lonely. The moon eclipses itself, and the shadow it casts sustains no life; all you have for company are space dust and moon rocks, which unlike you will never be weathered down by age, friction or water.

I've been there, you know.

I was there while it was dark, as the moon circled the sun and came out the other side and it was still dark.

You see nothing; for darkness is absolute there, hear nothing; because sound doesn't travel through a vacuum, feel nothing; since there's nothing a human consciousness could relate to.

The silence, desolation and emptiness, you're at once attracted to it, at once repulsed - like a dead dog lying in the middle of a road.

What could exist in such a place?

Yet I've been there, all this time, and no one knew it.

On Gravity

Have you ever tried treading a path on the dark side of the moon?

It's cold and totally void of anything the human experience could connect with.

I've been there, you know.

I was there while it was dark, as the moon circled the sun and came out the other side and it was still dark.

The darkness - it's like you know you belong there, yet it repulses you. No human could long survive those desolate and empty troughs.

But I did. I've been there all the time, and nobody ever knew it.