It really is too late for me to be an astronaut, isn't it?
Unless I pay someone to fly me to the moon, Lance Bass-style, I'm never going to wake up weightless. I'm never going to watch the sun rise over the Earth. I'm never going to tweet from outer space, let alone take jaw-dropping pictures of the deserts and rivers and cities we know, transformed and stilled by distance, perspective.
Seriously, I can lose myself in those pictures for hours. I love this Earth up close, but I want to know so much more about it when I see it far away. Why do we bother with urban planning when we see how a river winds its own course? The ones that cut their way through the ground in long, broad curves are lovely, almost lyrical; I imagine the water flowing slowly out to sea. But I love the ones wound up in tight, wild twists. That water is angry. It finds its own way. The difference between the two is like Beethoven to Monet.
Is it too late for me to be an astronaut? How much should I know about science, exactly?
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