Under an atmosphere of a planet, you sit in a house. On a planet that spins so fast you can barely catch it spinning. You look up, and every thing is gigantic, but you just don’t think about how small you are. The houses, the skyscrapers, the apartments and the mountains, they all big. But you go to space and puff, everything is the size of a cell, you think that everything is huge but the fact is that nothing is big. If someone says that they are taller than you, don’t get sad and cry because you just have to think and imagine you are all tiny. We are happy and joyful, and we all love our home, but when you leave the world for miles and miles out of the Milky Way, all you can see is the world being a little speck of dust, but when you go further and further and further and look at the Milky Way, it’s like a soccer ball that you kick around all day, and when you go further and further and further and you’re at the end of the universe, and you fall down the biggest void and you’re now in a little book, which is located in a school library light years from your home, and you see an alien that picks up the book. After so long and you finally realize that you are zooming out zooming out zooommminngg oooooouuuuuuuttttttttt!