What Might Happen

A downpour might never end.

Two suns might be just one.

One sun might be two or more.

A flood might never subside.

Mountains might never turn into valleys.

Breathing might be merely challenging.

Music might be really weird all the time.

Flaccidity might never cease.

Flatulence might never cease.

Muscles might get too small forever.

Food might resemble feces all the time.

Walking might be crawling all the time.

You might have to float to get around.

The air might not support you all the time.

You might have to go the bathroom upside down.

Your keys might not open your doors.

Your rover might not turn over.

Your rover might flip.

You might get too hot all the time.

You might not like anyone anymore.

You might turn into aliens.

You might just like die or something.

You might not have any way to inhale smoke.

You might not handle liquor.

Drugs might not work.

You might go insane all the time.

You might lose all your hair.

Your suits might not fit anymore.

You might have to stay on the ship to survive.

You might get bored on the ship.

You might not like the pizza, if any.

The cheese, if any, might be runny and/or bland.

The crust, if any, might be flat.

Intimate activity might get boring.

You might set up interest-and-involvement intimacy engagements.

Your noses might get bigger or smaller.

Your teeth might separate and fall out.

Your tongues might hue or transform in color or size.

Toothpaste might not work anymore.

Cream rinse might get too greasy or drying.

You might break out all the time.

You might found Science and/or Philosophy of Mars Masters or Doctorate graduate programs.

You might get creative with no way to do anything productive.

You might start hieroglyphics all over again.

You might be really primitive at first.

You might grow hair all over your bodies.

You might start a new race of humanoids.

You might get bad breath all the time.

You might stink all the time.

Your toilet paper might float away from you.

You might have no way to wipe.

Your soap might smell differently.

Your sensations might change into something worse, not really better.

Your babies might get unexpected.

You might not recognize yourselves.

You might not know how you’re doing anything at all let alone merely surviving.

You might worry a lot more about a lot more things you can’t do anything about.

You might have no way to get back home.

You might get homesick all the time.

Religion might not mean anything to anyone anymore.

The Bible might not make sense anymore.

You might need a new savior.

You might start another wicked empire.

History might repeat itself.

You might think it wasn’t worth it but can’t do anything about it, anyway.

You might wonder what’s going on back home a lot with no way to find out.

The trees might be taller than you can climb.

The seas might be farther than you can cross.

The deserts might be hotter than you can handle.

The nights might be total black-outs.

The skies might be green and the oceans might be blue.

The gems, if any, might not be worth anything.

You might have to dig for gold, if any.

Any gold you find might be of little or no value unless you continuously engage in transports back and forth between home and your new location.

There’s gold in those there mountains.

I might just be saying that, though.

You might not find any gold.

You might have to support people still at home for gold to keep getting mined.

You might have bad luck.

You might have good luck.

You might not get there in time for the gold rush.

Hurrying up to get there now might be advised as “not waiting for the stocks to change might help you invest better.”

You might listen to investment advice on your way there.

You don’t have to invest if you don’t want to.

The climate might be too cold to do anything in.

Skiing might be too treacherous.

The mountains might be too steep even just to climb.

Marathons might require more oxygen than available.

You might not be able to talk ever.

Singing might be impossible all the time.

You might not be able to share pics with your friends and family at home.

The web might not connect universally.

Beer might taste bad.

Tobacco might taste bad.

Salad bars, if any, might not have everything you want all the time.

Karaoke, if any, might be too loud.

You might not be able to sing anything and/or any way you want to at any karaoke events.

You might just stay in your quarters with no reason to go anywhere.

Being there might be a lot like being where you already were in life.

You might think that you were secretly shipped to another part of the world where you’re just being told that it’s really another planet.

You might try to go back home to no avail as authority blocks you from leaving.

You might not know enough to ask any questions before you leave.