Last week, there was a real rough day. During it, my brain broke a little, and something came out onto Twitter. Which really wasn't the best forum to express it. I wanted to have a copy stored/posted someplace in a single piece. Here it is.


Better thoughts: 43 years ago today, Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon. Two men, encased in a fragile bubble of our world's atmosphere, standing on an alien shore. Long after we're gone, traces of our hands will remain, scattered to the solar winds. Monuments of metal, glass, and circuitry to a species that looked beyond itself to the universe beyond.

Nothing people can say, nothing people can do, no politician, no denials, no law, no movement can change this.

Even now, Voyager 1 drifts beyond our sun into the infinite night between the stars, joining the thousands of other eternally drifting ships. In the vastness between the stars, they sail in safety, wings outstretched to catch solar winds they have long since left behind.

Spinning in the expanse, they sing a chorus that echoes throughout the galaxy. Each singer deaf, never to hear their fellows. But still, our voice joins a mighty choir.
Together, we sing:
"Universe: We are here. And you are glorious."