I feel guilty complaining since I willingly signed up for this, and because, objectively speaking, I have the best view of anyone -- but it is BORING up here. I finished my month's list of movies in a week. I'd start with next month's, but I don't think Bollywood can make them fast enough to keep up with me.
I watched one last night that was set about seventy years in the future. Cars flew and everything was metallic. Skyscrapers towered throughout the former American plains. There were no more farms or fields. I don't think the film was making an environmental statement. (It was a rather bland love story, actually.) Yet it made me feel claustrophobic and afraid. Not just for this proposed future, but for when I return to Earth and no longer have the galaxy to myself. When other beings want a part of me. Life on Earth is a crowded room. Noise and needs and tasks and lists. Problems and tragedies and love affairs and accomplishments erupt from the concrete pavement and grow to tower a thousand stories above us, casting long shadows and blocking the stars.
Here, I am my own spaceship. If I am quiet, the world is quiet. I move an inch, and it changes the history of the 13-month planet I live on. I need nothing, and all my needs are met. Nothing needs anything from me. I never thought being unneeded would feel this freeing.
I will miss the space of Space.