I moved to the first island country that allowed me to change my name and surname freely -- my new name was Guliwer Szalony, citizen of the Earth. The Earth citizenship was granted to me by the Intertemporary and Intergalactic Council which decided to intervene on planet Earth in the 21st century before it burned down and died of toxic waste and radiation. The Council sent me, of all sentient beings, to establish friendly relations with humans, among other things, for commercial reasons (read to buy 21st century weed and sell it to the Egyptian pharaohs in the late bronze age). The first time-travelling aliens I encountered looked like elves in fantasy games, they were quick as squirrels and looked mildly amused at my humble sailing boat where we met after they emerged from the sea, spewing water and laughing as of intertemporary and intergalactic travel was a joke.
I bought that boat to smuggle weed out and people in, but only people I knew who were unfortunate enough to stay on the other side of the border when it was closed for good, except for little boats like mine or should I say ours -- our Temple's of Aphrodite in the Tower of the Three Winds. Aphrodite visited us on this very boat we called Kaszalot and hired us for the Temple. She came from Olympos, but from the past, or rather her spirit came and stayed with us, her presence visible, audible and palpable in every dance on our balcony overlooking Venus at night.
-- Which one's Venus? -- asked Young Samurai, brandishing his newly painted over wooden sword.
-- Careful with that blade -- she answered, giving him the binoculars she'd been using for astronomical purposes. -- It's the big bright one, see? left of the factory chimney.
Venus shone down on us among other planets, stars, UFOs and military satelites. We danced on the balcony, even when it underwent a very thorough and very noisy renovation, smoking and telling endless tales in two languages, mostly, and sometimes even in three. When we danced, Aphrodite was our DJ, changing old forgotten playlists on Spotify for us as the sirens wailed again to remind us of a past sacrifice and to prepare us for a future one, soon, oblivious of all historical irony, reminding us of our duty to die for foreign capital and be proud of it too.