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A Spoodle in Space - The Space Tourist Chronicles

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  Blast off on a wild space adventure! We're crammed into our battered little Subi spacecraft, heading to the dusty outpost of Outpost Aurum. Our mission: to reach the ocean planet of Oceanus Station. Join us as we station-hop through space, in a calamity of errors, as intrepid space tourists.  Script Our battered Subi spacecraft, a relic of pre-Collapse Jump engineering, groaned under the weight. Myself, BK, and Katcha, the genetically modified spoodle with its enhanced olfactory sensors, along with enough protein paste to outlast a minor vacuum breach, were crammed inside.  A brand-new Brass Monkey cryo-unit hummed in the boot, our lifeline for the long haul. Our mission: a jump from Beagal's orbital dock to the dusty outpost of Outpost Aurum, a waypoint on the long haul to Oceanus Station, a planet known for vast oceans. Outpost Aurum, a rumoured oasis of functional grav plating, was our first target. Beagal's orbital dock was a pressure cooker of recycled air and stal...
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Where is this road taking us p2

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Senselessness is closer to godliness.
Our chance is greater than sensing a predetermined order.
Roads and borders have formed our consequence of being.
Once on the flat surface without a line our traverse is both too and fro.
With lines, we learned to know what is too and what is fro.
With lines, we became assured that there is intended purpose.
With barriers, we became to know there is safety in our conscious world.
With barriers, we became assured that there is intended protection.

We protect the entry and we protect the exit.
We protect what is on and we protect what is off.
Fabricating senses to make fabricated sense.
This has become our understanding.
This has become our normality.
A predicted future has been transposed through evolutionary sensors.
Building indicators on indicators.
Captured within historical learnings.

Now trapped, we are too scared to be removed from this order.
If removed there is no enforce heritage.
Our leader's platforms are culturally accepted.
Who lives where, who inflicts, who controls.
Destruction of sensory purpose opens the void.

Knownness blinds consequence.
Controlled by senses that profit order.
Only through the removal of sensory purpose can we enlist the freedoms within chance.

There is no opportunity to remove sensors.
Our masses fear chance.
The chance of entering godliness has been lost.

Lost to the controlling sensors.
The powerful manner what is reason and regulation.
This simulated order is for the prosperous.

The warnings exist but they are not evident for action.
Only through senseless existence can we move closer to godliness.










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