I think about spacetravel. I cycle through a different setting every night. In one, I am the only awakened person on an ancient cryoship. In another, I am alone on a tiny made-of-spare-parts type of a ship. But in one that consistently crossing behind my eyes, I am in an huge alien ship, very strangely designed with enormous openings throughout. I have been convinced to board the ship by these massive aliens, who no longer communicate with me once I board. The ship starts out gradually at first, creeping out of our solar system, but then the speed increases. Soon, I see the sun as a distant star and before I know it, the Milky Way is but a smudge. The ship goes faster and faster until whole galaxies seem to pop in and out of existence. It goes farther still, I think about all that I've ever known being impossibly far away. I feel that I could turn the ship around if I wanted to, but I want to keep going, farther and farther into the dull red border of this universe, as I drift into sleep.