The void is freedom.

The infinity of space, the expanse of civilization and the tattered edges that mark it’s advance. Like the ancient seas of life giving worlds, we seek these barren places, though within them we perish utterly.

Lives are left on spaceport floors like flimsies for hookers and strip clubs. We don’t have to keep the one were given anymore. Beings stumble in and pick one up that’s just laying there; they don’t know where it’s been or where it’s going, they only know it’s theirs now. Then one day, maybe weeks or months or lifetimes later, time runs out, and they drop it again, let it sit, let it rot, and flee out to the stars looking for another.

But what has this freedom done to us? What does it give, and why do we want it? We aren’t looking for fame. Money would be nice, but it would just keep us in the black. What are we running from in these dark lanes? Where does it go when it isn’t chasing us, and why do we drape those worn out lives across our shoulders?

Are we just running from something or towards it; or are we just running up the count?

I don’t know, I don’t even care to know. I only move forward, because it isn’t back. We take that kind of thing as a given, but I have seen a man take a step back and it will do things to the soul that we weren’t meant to survive. Maybe that’s why we do it, why we thrive as a species, why we laugh and why we cry. Maybe moving and running is just a means to keep us around; a biochemical reaction not unlike a virus gutting a cell and moving on to do it again.

Easy now, take a breath; don’t think too far down these haunted mediums. That’s the loneliness talking; that’s the void. Close down, buckle up, lean back and just drift.

Drift along those empty lanes, burn fuel and move fast. Drift.

Drift.

Drift

Dead space   help me by mcchaz3 Dholcrist Tappist drubixcube Quixotic_Earthling