Where I dream, there are no stars, for not any of any world has yet to discover where it is. I imagine that other places like this exist, for there have been many travelers throughout the cosmos who go so alone as this. My stomach becomes something like a strange, sickly feeling, that when I conceive of certain things, these themselves are so unthought, almost unthinkable in their newness. It is like a sense of danger. But what can I do but go forth, where the small lights lead? The point of turning back there never was; I was committed from the first step — even if I was unaware that there was no return, then. Here, the sky waits for me to fly up, and punch holes where the light may enter, for the stars to shine for the first upon these new lands. For the discovery to prove true, that a new world can be opened to the old.