Writing. Culture. Politics. Wandering.
Not a lot of time to maintain my log. Suffice to say I am not going to look back at this month with a smile. Travelling on a budget has its perks, but I get the idea those perks are only at stopovers and destinations. There are certainly no perks in the travelling itself. Splitting headaches, muscle cramps, it takes longer each time to actually start tasting the food I eat.
Travelling low, as it’s called, it seemed like such a good idea at the time. Passage as frozen meat stacked between bulk cargo, on ships that provide cheap passage because they sit and wait, probing unmapped wormholes far above or below the ecliptic looking for the right one to take them to their next destination. It saves a hell of a lot of money, but I kinda get now why it’s so damn unpopular even among the cheapskates. Like me.
Each time they thaw me out it hurts. I think I’m over my fear of the dentist by now. It just can’t compare to this. The pills put me to sleep yeah, but they don’t do a thing for how I feel before I take them. They don’t help either when the next grumpy uncaring crew member wakes me.
One hell of a way to ditch military service, maybe I should have showed up as the letter told me to. But no, I had to see the universe, my way.
Thank the universe for a working Link. If I had to write this, as the old fool in the crib next to me does his doodles, I wouldn’t have been able to log anything. I suspect by now I’d have tried to use the pen to stab myself, and failed miserably at it probably.
Alright, ranting time over. Got to take the pills, the captain just announced they have a positive probe result so we’re spinning up. It’s going to take us a month to get to the target area, and while I temporarily interrupt my existence as a frozen popsicle the crew will spend even more time probing gravimetric distortions to find a magic wormhole going in our direction. After the last trip I found out they’d taken two weeks to find one, which only took us part of the way, resulting in 6 months of me being a frozen vegetable.
No wonder these ships carry so little crew. Even with proper stasis pods, not these cryo cribs for the poor, it’s horrific work. I can’t imagine living a job that cuts that many holes into your life. I doubt anyone of them have family or friends beyond themselves. Their joking is as funny as how they wake us. Picture getting ready to get frozen at the mercy of people without much of any ties to humanity, then picture being given the reassurance that if something goes wrong, nobody is going to die of starvation with that much meat on board. Thanks guys. No really.
I can say though that while the trip is hell, the destinations do make it worthwhile. Even with the pain, the ever slower recoveries, the sights are beyond my expectations. Not to mention kissing a girl. When I grew up I must have had some kind of inspiration on how life did not have to be the same everywhere. I hope mum and dad forgive me for cleaning out their bank account. My sister too. I doubt that when I meet them again they will be willing to hear about what I saw and where I went. If I meet them again. They’re old. Probably a lot older by now, especially considering the frozen gaps in time. I’m so sorry. I really am. I didn’t know what to do. I can’t even kill a fly, what am I going to do in the military. I had to ditch. Had to run. I want to live. Don’t want to be some kind of drone. People telling me what to do. Hate that. Universe I hate what I did. Mum I’m sorry, Sis, I love you. Love you all. You must hate me. Gah I keep ranting, I’m sorry, it just really hurts.
Screw it, just getting this over with. Got to switch off the Link or it won’t survive the freeze. If electronics die in it, what’s it going to end up doing to me. Maybe next stop try get a job, maybe just one trip in stasis. Work on a ship as crew maybe. Or book a proper liner. For people, not cattle. Damn, last call sounding. Got to go.
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