Encounter with a Playful Spirit Just South of Keetmanshoop

Ten kilometres south of Keetmanshoop, just North East of the one hundred and sixty five kilometres that make up the Fish River Canyon, the second largest canyon in the world, it is deathly quiet in the evening in this the second most unpopulated country in the world, so quiet that one starts to hear things. Is it that our minds create noises just to ensure we are not dead. That it has to ensure that systems of working neurons are transmitting, impulses pulsing. It plays tricks and just when you have done with your relaxed deep breathing techniques, it'll twitch your left eyelid and mock you with an inner voice, "Ah twitched your eye, he, he", or right before you are moving from body to mind to soul it'll scream out laughing, "the end of your nose is itchy". So immature, so childlike this human, didn't it realise that a soul has deep thoughts and meanings to contemplate, that life was not just a game.

Lying on my back on this moon like rocky ground with its almost absent flora, looking at the milky lane, which in this part of the world is so dense, so close that it appears like a stratus cloud form almost touchable, just 4.6 billion years brighter.

I pick out Jupiter, why do I pick out Jupiter, because it's graphically the coolest planet, all those rings surrounding it, the marvel comic planet. I concentrate on it and eventually my mind assists and blocks everything else out and I am transported to within meters of this massive planet, so close I can hear as it spins in deep space.