Week 16, Day 6, Dream- Dream of the Stars
It's funny, how truly vast space is when you get out there. You can imagine things like fields or oceans that stretch on forever, but even those have limits. They stop at the shore, at the mountains. Space has no limits. It goes on forever and ever- farther than even you or I can imagine.
And she knows this, somehow, somewhere deep inside. She couldn't tell you where or when, or what gave her the compulsion to put on Cosmos or Star Trek reruns, even though she knows the latter is wrong, somehow.
But she couldn't ever tell you how.
And so she dreams again, this time there is just space, a vast, cold emptiness, and somehow, it sings to her. Planets, stars, they all transmit radio waves that she can somehow hear, and in her mind, there is music. And it is beautiful, but she does not know why.
There are so many things like this.
She does not need air, and she can travel from one nebula to another in the blink of an eye. And this does not bother her or frighten her, but instead, she smiles. She laughs. She can see Earth from here, and she takes in in her hands, pulling it close and cradling it to her.
She loves it, for all the hatred and sadness on her planet, she loves it. She loves every plant and creature and human on it, no matter how repulsive they may seem to some. The moon trails a lazy orbit around her, stirring her golden hair as it floats about her.
She laughs again, and this time she lets go. She looks up, and marvels at the vastness again. And yet, this feels right. It feels like something she had lost. And so she lets go of her planet and closes her eyes, willing herself to travel those light years away from the place she was born. For this, somehow, is her home. She watches as the galaxies pass, but she says nothing, though a silent joy wells within her. This is where she belongs- where she can feel herself connecting. For as much as she loves the earth, she loves this vastness more. So she closes her eyes, and when she opens them again, she can see herself moving toward the farthest reaches of the cosmos. She smiles.
And she drifted silently toward the stars.
And she knows this, somehow, somewhere deep inside. She couldn't tell you where or when, or what gave her the compulsion to put on Cosmos or Star Trek reruns, even though she knows the latter is wrong, somehow.
But she couldn't ever tell you how.
And so she dreams again, this time there is just space, a vast, cold emptiness, and somehow, it sings to her. Planets, stars, they all transmit radio waves that she can somehow hear, and in her mind, there is music. And it is beautiful, but she does not know why.
There are so many things like this.
She does not need air, and she can travel from one nebula to another in the blink of an eye. And this does not bother her or frighten her, but instead, she smiles. She laughs. She can see Earth from here, and she takes in in her hands, pulling it close and cradling it to her.
She loves it, for all the hatred and sadness on her planet, she loves it. She loves every plant and creature and human on it, no matter how repulsive they may seem to some. The moon trails a lazy orbit around her, stirring her golden hair as it floats about her.
She laughs again, and this time she lets go. She looks up, and marvels at the vastness again. And yet, this feels right. It feels like something she had lost. And so she lets go of her planet and closes her eyes, willing herself to travel those light years away from the place she was born. For this, somehow, is her home. She watches as the galaxies pass, but she says nothing, though a silent joy wells within her. This is where she belongs- where she can feel herself connecting. For as much as she loves the earth, she loves this vastness more. So she closes her eyes, and when she opens them again, she can see herself moving toward the farthest reaches of the cosmos. She smiles.
And she drifted silently toward the stars.