Sometimes, lying on my back in the backyard, I get the well-known sensation of distant and cold emptiness above me and it fills me with dread. It’s too big, too icy, too unheimlich.
Other times, the endless streams of stars above, rotating and burning and hurtling through nothing, extending out past any imaginable distance, beginning nowhere and ending nowhere.. Other times, that huge uncaring unknowable cavern is the most comforting thing I can imagine. Because it means I don’t matter, and that’s great news.
Nothing is
Nothing becomes
Nothing is not
Be My Blog 
Other times, that huge uncaring unknowable cavern is the most comforting thing I can imagine…
This sentiment appears in Russell Hoban’s The Mouse and His Child. Have you read it?
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Stars
This is what I call the “apathetic fallacy”.
In realy, the stars are huge fans of you. You’re totally a superstar in the whole Crab Nebula. Granted, they have you on seven-trillion-second delay, in case you swear or have a wardrobe malfunction, but you’re still totally huge there. They consider you “Earthy” but still so “authentic” even tho you’re a superstar now.
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