sherysheria

“I need space,” he quietly states But dear, what do you mean? Do you mean you want the planets, the asteroids, the sun? Do you mean you want the stars, the galaxies, the moon? Do you want to rent a room, inside a great black hole? An infinite vacuum, a quiet location, solitude for the soul? Oh yes, my dear, I’m sure you’ll find plenty of space in there Oh yes, my dear, in there, It’s as empty as you.