sometimes i’m like “am i sure my old job was as terrible as i say it was?” but then other times i walk into the bathroom at work and realize that i think of it primarily as “a bathroom” and not “the place i go to hide every morning for the first 20 minutes after i get to work so i can spend as little time as possible in a public space where one of my supervisors might talk to me”

garashirs:

you know what i need??? more myth and superstition in scifi.

give me starship captains like the sailors of old, weathered and wary of the vast beast that is deep space, who religiously keep their own personal traditions and rituals to appease her and guide their ships safely through her vast depths.

give me wide-eyed ensigns eagerly drinking in tales of great creatures of the void, space whales and other more malevolent leviathans, dismissed as tall tales by more cynical cadets who only trust the sense of their own eyes.

give me whispered accounts of ghost vessels, lost long ago in great battles across the universe, populated by a literal skeleton crew.

give me a space bermuda triangle.

give me a universe as cold and unfathomable as the ocean, and no less mysterious and forboding.