Partly Cloudy, 64°
Shooting stars are beautiful creations of this universe. I feel so lucky to be able to watch such a spectacular, inspiring sight from The International Space Station. Before going into space, it was rare to catch a glimpse of a shooting star. Now, I see them a lot more often and, every time I see this magnificent phenomenon, I hold my breath, close my eyes, and make a simple wish: “Oh fuck, please don’t hit me!”
Whenever I look out and see one of these dazzling meteors soaring through space, I thank God for being able to work in the International Space Station. I also pray to God that this high-speed meteor doesn’t explosively collide with the Space Station, blowing me to smithereens. Watching a shooting star hurtle by me, my mouth involuntary drops open in awe and I whisper to myself, “Holy shit, please just fly past me.”
I am truly living the dream. Ever since I was a kid, I hoped to become an astronaut. I remember looking at meteor showers through a telescope, absolutely stunned by the gorgeous cosmic display and wishing on them that I’d become an astronaut one day. Now that I actually work in outer space, however, all of my wishes are used in the hopes of preventing one of those fiery intergalactic rocks from hitting me.
Oh lord, here comes another one. Please, please, please don’t hit me!
