Feeling the heat death of personal cosmologies. Massless multi-verses of meaningless mind-stuff. Emotional entropy scattering soul through the universe. Looking to the next nova in search of wholeness. Blinding points of light. A singularity of consciousness. Identity coalesced to a moment of infinite density. Knowing, seeing, being — all in harmonious orbits, gravitationally locked. Universal understanding.
Challenging the laws of personal physics, that. Miscalculation. Not accounting for all variables — dark massive objects, newborn stars hidden within foggy nebulae, comets — oh those dusty devils! — drifting through the field of view. Many fellow travelers, contributing their own inevitable pull. A melange of Newtonian notions — microgravity acting across parsecs.
The soundless dark. Directionless space. No main sequence sun announcing, once and for all, that “this side is up.” No up, down, left or right. Just endless panoramas of rock and gas. Organized, yet lifeless. Like city streets at dawn. Is this the star-rise on a lonely, quiet, forgotten moon? A stellar show without audience? Besides, in space no one can hear your rebel yell.
Quiet now. Contemplative. Super hot gases dissipating into the absolute zero of deep space. Floating between systems, far from the light. Seeking ideal concentrations of energy. Agglomerations of meaning. The steady, strong pulse of a nifty neutron star. The perfect spiral color of the ultimate event horizon. A cosmological constant…