Misanthropic

1.

Many years ago, my psychotherapist gave me an assignment to imagine and describe a place where I genuinely feel happy. I was thrilled by this idea. A house by the ocean appeared in my imagination. This house stood on a deserted beach, with no soul for miles around. It was an island where I was the only inhabitant. Over time, I often returned to this image. When I woke up in the middle of the night and could not fall asleep, just a few minutes spent in this house on the island were enough to lull me into a deep slumber.

On the ground floor of my house, there was a wide terrace made of weathered, salt-kissed wood. It led to a sandy beach on one side and stretched into a steppe wasteland on the other. Several doors opened onto this terrace, and the old French windows were always wide open. A gentle breeze swayed the curtains, and the sand freely wandered across the floor, pleasantly tickling my feet.

The ground floor housed a large living room with a kitchen. I could spend entire days there, lying on a huge sofa in the middle of the room, falling asleep and waking up to the sounds of the ocean's gentle lullaby. Here, I could work whenever I wanted, early in the morning or late at night, without any interruptions. No one could send me an email or call me, unexpectedly show up, and distract me from my activities. There were no managers, subordinates, neighbors, acquaintances, friends, or relatives. I was alone. I was free, calm, and happy.

On the second floor was a bedroom with a comfortable, wide bed and a sturdy iron frame. I pictured myself lying on this bed at night, with the windows open, still hearing the sound of the ocean. The balcony overlooked the boundless water, and I could observe the night sky. It felt like I could hear the whisper of the endless black abyss, merging with the water's surface somewhere in the distance.

I could step out onto the beach and dip my feet in the sand, feeling the coolness of the sand refreshing my soles. I breathed in the salty air, relaxed, and forgot about my problems. Sometimes the waves came close, and I waited for the ocean to touch me, inviting me into its embrace. The warm water and the rocking of the waves brought me tranquility. I felt tiny, on the verge of two worlds - the blue abyss below and the black abyss above me. It helped me focus and find peace.

Now I feel something similar. I am alone, and there is no one around me for hundreds of miles. I feel good and calm. Soon, I will fall asleep, and I no longer need to imagine my house by the ocean. Here, I sleep so soundly, as if I were a newborn. Perhaps it's just a space dream, induced by a complex mixture of chemical compounds and sustained by high technology. Or maybe it's just the feeling of loneliness enveloping me from all sides, making me feel that here I am in my house by the ocean. And I am happy.

Spaceship A. Captain Log. Entry No. 10.