Jack Bastien: A start.

What are you doing?

I strapped myself in. There is no end to the number of things they have asked me to do. No end and yet all desire to do these things has left me. She ran away, in tears and all, and all I could concentrate on was the flap of her dress brushing against her leg.  

What're you doing?

They were telling at me through the headset. Test the secondary booster by switching to Bus B! If you don't compensate for the the backup system, yer gonna lose elevation faster than you can gain it! 

Doesn't seem to matter. Once I get up there, not sue there is something to come down for. Stupid engineers down there tell that the rocket is a womaan, got to to treat her nice, got to show her you mean it. Be direct and up front and honest- but not too honest. 

And always wear a jacket. 

For a full minute, my concentration returns.  Test the throttle, test the maneuvering system.  Everything tilts and pitches and yaws the way it is supposed to.

Let's be real. This ain't a sacrifice. This ain't a hurdle you have to jump over.  This isn't a problem. This is something you were born to do.  You came to this world with your baby face and slicked-back hair ready to do this. I don't want to hear you complaining, I don't want to hear you saying that some piece, some component to this masterpiece is missing.  Because for you, at this moment, at this time, that is simply not true.  You are the peak, you are the apex. You are the concept, lift off and burnout of all of this! Spare me your "save me from the burning wreckage" bullshit.  You've saved yourself before, you will save yourself again.  

You are a carved piece of granite.  You are unwavering.  You are to be looked up to. You are it.

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