"Is that right?"
"It's a wasteland of solitude."
Maybe I shouldn't be lonely, but the word fits one who is the Princess of Mars. I walk around Earth, sometimes in totally confusion, misunderstanding the concept of being around others.
I could wrap myself up in my loneliness and keep myself warm with the blanket, but eventually the warmth subsides and I'm left with nothing but a memory of once was. A memory I created. Trying to understand.
Mars is my home. It always will be. I shouldn't reject, even if I do sometimes.
This is how it is.
I stand at the Moon's Port, gazing off into the endless sea of stars and wonder...
"What's there to be, but lonely?"