"I find it a bit surprising how much Darwin and Einstein coincide..."

I keep changing my mind whether I like Tang or I don't
or I do or I don't but it all just gets pretty irrelevant at some
point because the truth of the matter is that it's all there
is to drink up here. Out out here. Or over there. It's hard
to say, it's all relative in space. I mean, from Jupiter to the
Sun, technically, I'm 'down there.' But screw Jupiter, all
hot and bothered because it's got one large blemish
as if the other planets were a big prom queen committee
ready to tear her apart for being the biggest and most popular
planet. I think I like Tang today, actually.

Well, time's up. Gotta head back to the shuttle. I got these
sweet little do-hickies that when I hit them a jet of oxygen puffs
out the side and Newton's Third takes over and accelerates me from
17,000mph to 17,002mph and I slowly float (or blindingly hurl) towards
the shuttle (depending on your relative state).

I always found it strange that they'd send a biologist into space
by himself. I mean, this is usually reserved for Air Force pilots
and astrophysics graduates with big pecs and washboard abs.
I spend my time between observation periods watching reruns
of the Andy Griffith show and Walking with Dinosaurs.

I sometimes wonder how I'm going to land this shuttle when it's
time to go back. It worries me a bit when I think about it and slowly
suck down tubes of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
Run the calculations and check the tanks and prepare
for another controlled burn to take me just a little bit farther away
from my original orbit (they never seem to have me burn towards
the inside).

I had an interesting idea for the day. I'd take images of the earth
and superimpose them over my helmet. I'd draw lines for the countries
through time on them to see how the world changes politically. I'd use blue
for borders changed diplomatically and red by war.

I was out with my space-notebook and my space-pencil collecting my data of
the world when I decided to look out upon everything. The first shade. How quaint.
The second shade. Nice. The third shade. Alright.

The 12th shade: All red.
The 18th shade: All red.
The 36th shade. All red.

I was watching the episode that night where Opie accidentally kills the mother bird in the
nest and feels so guilty he had to take care of them. I'm not worried about landing
the shuttle anymore.

I won't have to.
This was really different and cool... In the middle I felt the concept and style was being worn a bit thin but you really brought it back with those last three stanzas. Perhaps just try and trim some fat from this too keep it moving towards that fantastic ending? Either way, well-done.


"Art is always and everywhere the secret confession, and at the same time the immortal movement of its time."

It starts off incredibly juvenile and silly. The spiel about Juniper as an ill-tempered prom queen and phrases like space-notebook and space-pencil...none of that was serious to the point of the entire piece seeming like a parody of surreal, abstract writing. In face, I straight HATED the first 4 stanzas.

It picks up towards the end, and the shade motif was interesting and led towards somewhat of a creepy ending, but in its purest essence you fail to tell a story other than someone lost at space and absolutely nothing happens. Nothing. Writing is subjective and maybe you're saying something here, but the weak start and the silly wordplay and gibberish amount to a hill of nothing that can be connected to.
Poor advice.
Well whether there was story here, or not I still enjoyed reading it, and Space Oddity was the soundtrack. I think if I sit here and read something, and enjoy it, then my time has been well spent. So good job.
"Pain or damage don't end the world nor despair, nor fuckin' beatings. The world ends when you're dead, until then you have more punishment in store. Stand it like a man, and give some back."