Spaceman’s Transmissions

Dear listeners, I have yet another very important tale for you today, and one of absolute truth! This is above and beyond the tale that I laid upon your mind in the podcast Camping Under The Stars, Vol. 5 (Sanctuary), which was a mere 2 weeks of living off of the land and surviving on hot dogs, bananas, and peanut butter. Dear listeners, this tale stretches across 3 years. 3 long YEARS!! It is not one that was pleasant, but it had a(n eventual) happy ending. How does that tie into today's episode?? Well, let me tell you....... In a time not long ago, during a weird and upside-down world of toilet paper shortages and no haircuts lived a content little dude whom we will call Poemhobbit. He lived in his happy village with his happy family and created musings of aural jewels for people all over the world which he delivered like an Easter egg. Well, for some odd reason, Poemhobbit and his family felt that they should travel to a land unknown, so he sold his tiny cottage quickly and with a prosperous outcome. Poemhobbit was so happy! But, before he and his family would decide on the perfect place, they would live in a less-than-desirable village that was infested by a sub-societal mob of unhappy zombies that smelled of burning skunk cigarettes. 'It is okay', thought Poemhobbit, 'it will not last for more than 3 months. I will take this negative experience and thrive, nonetheless. These 3 months will go by quickly and we will have departed before any misery sets in!' And so it was..... However, those 3 months turned into 6 months. Then, into a year. And, yet another year. And another year after that. And anot........wait, how many years is that?!? So, Poemhobbit was stuck in this prison-like dystopian cubicle for 3 years. And, the misery did set in. In fact, it festered like a cancer. The family was unhappy, hope had abandoned them, their dreams turned into dusty cobwebs, and escaping was something that was never even talked about without malice and regret. Poemhobbit was miserable, and his joy for the arts became a chore and a cumbersome endeavor. It was difficult for Poemhobbit to weave sounds and spread joy when it had escaped him.  But, Poemhobbit never gave up. He didn't always allow his family to know of his struggles, and instead fought to shine positive light on the negative situation. He fueled them with his (fake) optimism and assurance. Moreso, Poemhobbit had to really convince himself that his misery was perception, and that his ambitions would pull him out of the quicksand. He had to be the beacon of light, the sunbeam to those that depended upon him, and somehow find the strength to burn through the shadows and dust. 'Stay strong', Poemhobbit told himself, 'and let those that follow you tread upon a path of optimism and diligence.' Well, as fate would have it, persistence finally did win. Poemhobbit held out and never stopped raining hope and optimism upon his family. They were eventually able to escape the inferno of stinky skunk cigarettes burned by sketchy circus clowns. This journey in time was very debilitating physically, emotionally, and spiritually. If Poemhobbit gave up hope (which nearly happened many, many times), then he would have let down his family. In the end, Poemhobbit found a nice cottage in a small village where he had laid his wishes. Fortune smiled down upon his family, and the fire inside him rekindled once again. The struggle for comfort had finally subsided. Sometimes, to succeed you need the positive person around you to inspire you and light up your ambitions. Sometimes that person needs to be you. While the modern world wants us to let out everything and seek comfort from our hardships, your boy Poemhob........... I mean Tonepoet, believes that controlling this like a water spigot and knowing when, how much, and to who you water your hardships to is an exercise of optimal self-control. Seek a co-pilot that can give you guidance when you need it, so that you can ignite the light in