The Station, Part 2

28/5/2207

I don’t know if my transmissions are getting through. I’m guessing somebody’s trying to get through to me. It’s blocking incoming transmissions somehow. I don’t care how it’s doing, just why. Why let me send out pleas for help while not allowing me the peace of mind knowing you’re reading this transmission and sending help. Jesus, you must by now be thinking just what the hell this guy is on about. Look, I’m the only one here. You can only imagine what it’s like here on this station when you’re totally, and I really mean totally alone. Even when I look out any of the view ports I see nothing but blackness. It must be huge to block out the stars on every side. I can’t even tell what the general shape of the thing is. I don’t what to, but I have to consider that it’s all around me because I and this remote space station been swallowed whole by the thing. I want to be wrong. I want to be too stupid to understand what might be happening to me. I want you to fucking answer my goddamn transmissions. You fucks! You fucking bastards! Say something! Write something! Send me some fucking pictures of your fat, ugly wives! You fucks!—