Moonfish

As I was lying on my back on a beach somewhere at the end of this journey, stars filled the cloud-dotted sky and I am pretty sure I saw a fish swimming by in the pale moonlight. I am not sure what it all means and even less sure if drinking whiskey out of a bucket is really a good idea, but one would be safe to say that going home is not a thing to look reluctantly upon. At least there the clues make sense in a no-nonsense kind of way. So there I was, drifting away on my own cloud of clueless daydreams, propelled into what felt like a goodbye by a dazing brain and lots of alcoholic fuels. It didn't feel wrong, it didn't feel right. It just happened to be that way. Anytime soon now I will glance down on these clouds and realize that they belong to a different sky for the people down there. I will set foot again on my beloved birthground. And then I shall look up once more to see those omnipresent stars shining upon whatever piece of earth I happen to be looking up from...