To arrive here on the orbital, some say, is a one-way ticket. Others say that a better destination awaits those who cower in piety and righteousness. To do good for others represents the doing of good for the self, but what is it really?, to do good, that is, in the name of, with the promise of saving one’s own place in the paradise hereafter?

I bought the one-way ticket not too long ago, and as I watch each passing day turn into each passing week that quickly turns into months and then years and then decades, I wonder what shall or even could be done for and/or to the soul of the one who travels here, never to ever really leave this place.

The fresh branding of something that looks a like “OOOII” oozes with a rawness only fire can produce. The brand, some say, represents the death of one’s flesh as it decays under the pressure of gravity, the all-knowing, all-giving nectar of life.

Understanding, others say, breeds doubt; blind faith fuels wisdom, to be told rather than explored really embodies the morality of sacrifice, to be shaped, molded.

Others still prefer to bend or even break before ever letting a hand mold them into some form that cannot take the shape of anything other than what a creator demands.

But I have all the desire to leave. As soon as I could imagine that my one-way ticket was not, in fact, a one-way ticket in a directional sense, the one-way signifying something more than, other than heading one way, landing, never to leave or return to the place from whence I came.

Theoretically, instead, there is only way to live, and that one way is to survive, of course. But we all want more than mere survival, until, obviously, one must survive somehow, realize and awaken to the mundane reality that, here, there is nothing else, no one else except you and your life as you live each day, and then the star rises and sets, and the orbital orbits it, the ticking clock of an intangible existence.

As the apple rots in the fridge, I know that, here, survival mode remains largely unknown, ineffable, elusive. To wish, then, that life would find me and force me into the great awakening would be to tempt death to take me.

But if I survive, I surely will live a life unlike any I could have lived without the struggle, the enlightenment that life, yes, is for what I fight.