Atlas

Life is hard. Everything weighs you down. It makes trudging through the plasma miasma that is the quotidian. You are born, you attempt to thrive, and then die. The weight of responsibility bends your back as soon as you graduate high school and real life sets in. You go to war. You work in a cubicle. You serve food quickly. You fail. You live in your car. You eat ramen noodles. Nothing ever really lines up.

There is something out there that will make everything better though. In space, all your troubles become weightless and drift from your back. Life becomes simply drifting, in no particular direction, only as you creep between the greedy gravity pull from distant planetary bodies and stars.

Don't give up, give in, or give out too much. You're one in seven billion. We need you.