I would like to be one of those lucky astronauts who will fly to Mars. A total of 500 days to grasp the secrets of the universe among intelligent, psychologically compatible people. 500 days without perforators at 8:00 p.m., no nightly screams outside the window, no fucking news, no jehovists, no trade representatives, no pirates, no senses, no quotations and ratings, no fucking money, no fucking advertising, no fucking oil, no meaningless murders...
Weightlessness, music, light smoke... Mars 500 and Mars 500! Why not get in touch? Houston... Houston... Houston? Shit, you go to Houston!! to