Their are so many of them here, only the movie Pitch Black comes to mind. People I meet are all so few. Just a few of us good me. How do we navigate ? What do we eat ? How we keep ourselves fit ? Sanitation, hygiene, and medical aide ? That all the stuff we need to survive here. From the station to capital and back here again. Life has no meaning now. Then money that we need. My dad keeps track of that, which is required to make transactions. That’s what they give us too. So when they come, I only need to produce before them, the money they provided to me, in the nest. That equates to some sort of a closure and they look away. I can’t say with any human enthusiasm, that what we have struck here, gentlemen, an arrogant society of really weird, bipedal organisms, somewhat human in appearance and social structure only. They interact with us through money. I for one, am dazed out of amazement to this kind of a situation. But this is only the beginning, we are not going home, to our America, where I can have a hot dog, and call this place a nightmare, tell stories about how I survived it. Because their is no home to go back to. It is all changing as I arrived here. We’re not going home. That I have ascertained through my time here. What I’ve observed is that this place is changing too, this story does not have any happy ending and a journey back to any homeland. They are black people. Doing nothing, just circulating between cities. I don’t what is going to happen here, but the horror so far, has been rightfully been dissipated into the universe. Each day, each mission, is important. I wish life could be all about making money or have a family. But is not. It is Sci-Fi Horror. All the missions so far have been really horrific, did, I prepare for any of this, while I was growing up, or before I came here ? Overwhelmed with surprise and shock. Then some awe as we wondered at its beauty and perfection. Slow and steady. Slow and steady.