I opened the door.

I didn’t post on Wednesday.

ENTRY: Echo
(Posted without timestamp. No metadata. Unregistered user.)

I’ve been thinking about silence.

I’ve decided I’m not mad.

So… funny story.

[ENTRY] – {unsigned}

The crate opened.

There’s something oddly freeing about having seen your own dead body and not knowing if it was real.

So... what now?

There’s a point in every spacer’s journey where they stop asking “Why me?” and start asking “Now what?”

Here’s something no one tells you about staring into an alien psychic orb that might be harvesting your memories: it’s not the visual hallucinations that get you.

It’s the recognition.

Fun fact: when you see a video of yourself telling you that you didn’t make it, you start asking a lot of uncomfortable questions.

Stepping into an ancient, unmarked alien station that’s been broadcasting coordinates in the middle of uncharted space is not, I repeat not, what most people would consider a good idea.

I think I’ve developed a superpower.

You ever hit a point in life where you realize,

“Huh. I’m either unkillable or already dead and no one told me.”

Let me paint you a picture.

Okay. Look.

Things are not great.

I’ve come to the conclusion that sanity is optional out here.

You ever have one of those really bad ideas that you immediately regret?