Late Night Fiction One man’s non-fiction

Space

Today I spent a lot of time reading about the new things Virgin Galactic will be doing with its commercial trips to space and how badly I want to go there. And I thought about how if I could look down upon the earth in the darkness of space, the world would seem so small and insignificant to what I was experiencing. And how much I would love it.

Then I thought about how I wouldn't think of people, I wouldn't think of the issues that plague the world or my daily concerns; only this blue marble that I could stare down upon. And how if I went out farther to look upon our solar system it would be so small; farther to look at our galaxy and how small and remarkable it would be; and then if I went to the edge of the universe, it would all be so small. And I feel like if I took one step further to the outside of our universe, it would all be contained in this tiny ball that from my view on earth, to me right now, looks so vast.

And it would look like what's inside my head. When viewed from a spot where everything is small, nothing matters. It is all contained, small and insignificant. And well-- I don't know how else to express the kind of relief and tranquility that would give me. If my mind is that small, viewed from the right distance, and my environment as well, nothing matters so much that it must be overly-contemplated. When I think so much I zoom down to a small level on an Earth of thoughts which isn't even at the most basic level to understand everything that occurs. I feel like if I could look down at the entire universe and could understand what that meant to me there, I would be able to understand what it meant on this relatively micro level.