Float

There I went falling into the black. They say it's because of dark energy. The color. That things should be grayer without it. I don't know about that, but I know about floating. Space is buoyant, like salt water. Time is a current: sometimes turning deadly, sometime benign; like thoughts. So I float. I float away, ignoring gravity: that's easy out here. They say you can survive in open space for a small while, if you empty your lungs first. Cursed air: oxygen, nitrogen, argon. They look the same to me from this position. This is nature. Always wanting to kill you. Nature is the enemy. Nature is entropy. Always looking to blend extremes. Not too much time left. I guess. I'll miss the sun and the warmth most. I imagine not being warm or cold, but kind of in between. Always a little colder than ideal. Never warm enough. I shiver. The frost is here in the shade, but then I melt in the sun.

Is it time for sleep?