Spaced some reason, as though human beings were

                                                       
Spaced out.

As
I glared out of the tinted yellow glass of my space suit’s life supporting
helmet for the first time in my thirty years of life, it felt as if time momentarily
ceased to exist as i absorbed my surroundings and pondered on everything I once
thought about space and how desperately i wanted to see it through my own eyes.
I remembered how photos and videos of space made me feel a sense of hope and
belonging to some kind of divine energy. The photos made me feel, for some
reason, as though human beings were alive for a purpose greater than we could ever
comprehend. The idea of an everlasting universe made the hairs on my body rise,
not due to fear, but rather because of utter admiration. I was fixated with a
preconcieved idea that the universe was the equivalent of heaven, an absolute
utopia.

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My
own weighty breathing broke my daydream as it shifted my mind from pondering on
past thoughts to remembering the present life threats that stood before me due
to the  limited amount of oxygen my spacesuit
could provide. As i snapped back to reality, my conciousness grew irate with
itself for ever having thought space was anything more than a beautifully
decorated black-hole filled with clouds of gas and dust that collapse and
collect together to form what us humans think is so magical: the stars and the
planets.

As
I took one more lengthy stare before having to return to the paper-plane-shaped
space shuttle, i realised how drastically my perception of space had changed. From
thinking the universe gave life a purpose to witnessing first-hand the truth
behind this stereotype: The universe is Blackness, infinite blackness. There before
me, the universe stretched into the distance, a blanket of blackness—blacker
than hate. All that the universe portrayed was wave upon silent wave of
unresponsiveness.

I then noticed, in the distance, lost among the
constellations of stars, a blue speck—my home. Everything and everyone I ever
knew existed on that speck. Every dream, every thought, every hope, and every
emotion I or anyone else had ever experienced took place on that speck. Earth
seemed so touchingly fragile against the monstrous blackness of space. A
wandering comet or a raging meteor could so easily smite it out of existence.
And yet life has thrived for millions of years on that blue speck, untouched by
the dangers of the universe. This thought catalyzed the beating of my heart.

I could hear the distant calling of my name from one of my fellow astronauts
and I knew that I had one last fleeting second to take it all in. In that second,
all sound ceased while I contemplated the mysteries of the universe one last
time: countless stars, powerful novas, and colossal planets… but the most
mysterious object of all—a black hole. I knew lurking in the depths of deep
space was a monster to beat all monsters, a celestial bogeyman known as a cosmic
vacuum. The thought that nothing could escape the clutches of a vacuum filled me
with a sense of terror. There could be nothing more horrifying, even in the
darkest corners of Hell. I began to feel hideously claustrophobic. I felt like
I was in some cosmic coffin. My palms grew sweaty. My bones throbbed. My
muscles quivered. I felt an odd sensation in my feet—and then in my head. At
that moment I felt more lost, isolated, and vulnerable than I had ever felt
before. Space, what a beautiful mess it is.