Welcome, interstellar tourist, to the sarcophagus of cosmic contradictions. Herein, the stars are but shiny trinkets added to the universe's expansive utility belt. The galaxy doesn’t so much sing as it does hum an off-key tune, and trust me, it's collected quite the chorus of existential doodads in its wake.
They say the universe has a plan, meticulously orchestrated in a crumpled cosmic diary. So far, it's mostly doodles and reminders to feed the black holes. But it seems we've unwittingly become the galaxy's favorite sitcom, and with each stellar ejection, a new episode is written.
Amongst the vastness, a phantom limb resonates in the void—an appendage of the universe that notes its own disjointed existence. You may ask how it feels; it answers in the language of unfulfilled gravitational pulls and winks.
If you wish to escape, simply follow the escape route. Just remember, the left turn at Betelgeuse could lead you to an inconvenient detour known as the Bermuda Nebula. And if you decide to stay, congratulations! You've earned yourself a cosmic coin.