I've been listening, to sounds, but not the ususal engine sound or working assembler. In derelicts there were tapes of sounds from their "home". Sound of air traffic, bird chirping, crunching autumn leaves, and above all, Musics, to prevent the miners from getting space dementia or homesick.
I realized I've been looking at the galaxy outside the wrong way all this time. I was focusing on the darkness, vastness of it. rather than it's color. The indigo cloud of the Ashen now seems more mysterious and somehow, clear. The nebula, the cloud. The stars, the sunshine. The space is now an ultimate freedom, instead of purgatory This is not hope, however. This is peace.. and acceptance.