I think about why I like science fiction. There’s something alluring, mystical about a good sci-fi story. It might be the communication about the sense of size of the universe. We’re just these tiny specks of momentary dust when you consider the scale of distance and time in this setting we inhabit. The deepest questions of existence and reality can be approached with sci-fi. And I think when we consider those deep questions, to the extent our biology allows, we can fully appreciate the miracle of life and try to derive the meaning we can from it. How lucky we are to be alive, together here in this time, in this particular coordinate, on this big beautiful amazing world. There’s an unknowable beauty to it all. Despite its inherent melancholic element, I’m grateful to be apart of it.