OK admittedly I don’t know what this captain is named after, but here I am floating, regardless. I’m climbing—scratching—my way to the top of the tree. Wait no I’m not climbing. I said it already: I’m floating, still floating towards the top. When’s the end? Doesn’t take a genius to answer NEVER. Surely, the infinite spread of the universe is a sure sign of God’s design. To be fair, there’s this and that EXPLODING, but truthfully there’s very little to patrol out here. All under control, riding the float in line with the parade headed for deep infinity and we don’t need no federation. No rabid explorers. No pioneers. Enthusiasm—not over-enthusiasm—please…because we will be floating out here for quite some time, enough time for me to wonder if my sneakers will arrive ahead of me, next galaxy over.
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