posted on Aug, 31 2018 @ 12:06 PM
Hardly my best work, but eh.
The void is silent as I sail through it. It is a deep silence, and a tangible one. It's whispers echo in my bones, leaving me shaking despite the
fact that my suit keep some warm. There is nothing, anywhere, except me. Somewhere, somehow, I slipped over the edge and sailed past the last star. I
don't know how long I've been trying to find my way back now.
To say I am lonely would be like a man dying of thirst saying he could use a drink. I am slowly dying, the only question is whether my mind will
outlast the energy reserves of my suit. Even now I feel my self seeping into the silence of the void, my sanity fraying to tatters the longer I sail.
Alone in my suit, on my sail, I have nothing to define me, nothing to relate to.
It instills a quiet sort of panic, a soft dread which is the backdrop of my existence; ever present and looming. I feel as if to suffocate, brought on
by a nameless, faceless oppression which is sheer solitude. With nothing to do or be, no one to know or interact with... My consciousness begins to
decay. No matter how much I scream or weep into the void, no matter how much I gnash my teeth and shake my fists... Still it remains; despair remains,
and slowly consumes me.
My sail is a simple thing. On space, only the initial push is required for long distance travel. With negligible friction, motion is sustained near
indefinitely. So was the theory, anyway. My people found very quickly that 'near indefinitely was nowhere near as long as we would have liked. For in
the space between stars and planets there are numerous dust and gas molecules floating around, and when you push through them they exert minuscule
forces of friction. Yet, these minuscule forces accurate to the point where they are no longer negligible. We designed our sails to harness this
"wind", harvesting the energy released by the act of friction by some method unknown to this engineer.
The sail has a display which shows how much friction you have accumulated and are currently experiencing. The energy gets stored and is subsequently
released to gain back the speed lost due to friction. But there has been no friction for a long time now. Not even microparticles. There is just me,
my sail, and my suit.
When first I slipped over the edge of space into the void, I was unconscious. My memory is very hazy so I can't be sure if we were attacked or
suffered some serious malfunction. I do remember the call to evacuate and then... I thought I was dead. Were it not for my suit, and my sail, I should
never have known the difference. My only companions, these, as silent as the void and yet all that stands between me, and death, and also me, and
insanity. For they are my only ties to reality.
I am not, at least, without diversion. I have many days of music installed, bit alas I hardly even listen to it. I quickly discovered it just made
things worse; for it made the fact of my alienation all the more poignant. I can be distracted for a time but the longer I listen the more my
attention comes to rest upon the gap between beat and voice; such that the alternation between silence and sound consumes me, building into a terrible
crescendo and I'm trapped between the two.
Now I only use music very sparingly, only when despair is like as not to consume me do I press play. The best songs have no words, because the ones
with words make me yearn all the more for company, and I am like as not to rage and weep at the voices heard in music that seem to ignore me.
My eyes stay glued to the display, hunting for the slightest amount of friction, searching for some sign that I am nearing the realm of the physical
once more. But it won't be much longer either way, now. My suits energy reserve just hit critical levels. Soon, with no solar rays to catch, it
won't be able to maintain life support by converting energy into heat and the raw materials my body processes. At least I have plenty of water.
Would that I had someone to talk to, but I doubt if I'll be remembered as anything but "that one engineer." Regrettably, I never comported myself
well. Alas, the final sleep nears me now. Oxygen cut off, and the cold...!! Oh, the cold. The silence has seeped inside me now, and with my last
breath I beseech you. Remember me well.