i believe in space

Pulling bits of stickers, plastic off of everything. It should be clean and sterile here - but no. Everything has it's own litter, and a vessel in space is no exception. In fact, worse than Earth - nothing ever stops. Everything just spins and spins, colliding with itself, becoming great tumbleweeds of meaningless material. Shiny and transparent, sticky and alternately unavoidable and impossible to catch. Fucking space debris.

And that's just inside. Outside, that's where you can really get fucked. A mote of dust at speed can create a dent that will breach a hull. A pebble can destroy the entire thing, smash it into little tiny pieces, which will in turn smash other things. It's an endless game, avoiding garbage of our own creation. A game without any good end.

And if our garbage should someday be sucked down into the gravity of Earth, or in time, another planet, chaos would ensue. Oceans surging across dry lands, craters throwing dust into the sky. Fires that burn everything in their path. All for a speck of rock, a candy wrapper. The flotsam and jetsum that continually follows the human race.

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