Waking up on Atalanta 365 is not a good experience. For one, you wake up seeing stars. Literally. The ship has this giant glass roof that covers the entire upper residential deck, and if it was your first time waking up here, you'd get seriously disoriented. I know I did the first time.
Ever since leaving dystopian Earth on 2074, humanity as we know it shrugged daylight aside like it was a thing of the past. Considering the caliber of invention and innovation humanity has by this time though, I cannot help but wonder why scientists and society in general decided to pack flora and fauna and literature and the arts first before considering taking daylight on this journey towards New Earth. I am enraged to be extremely honest. I mean, I know we can't drag the Sun along but couldn't we at least invent a sun-like device that filters daylight into this ship? Those are definitely better than all these white luminescent lamps. And my skin needs actual Vitamin D for crying out loud.
Two, because waking up entails another 'day' of mediocrity. If you're a kid who likes virtual games and stuff, then another 'day' would mean another day of endless hours playing Mintendo or Super Flavio or whatever. Or if shopping's your thing, you can always go to the upper and lower deck malls and sip $500 Moonbucks frappe while you're ogling boys and their pets or whatever. But if you're a person like me who's read every single digital book in your virtual library, then another 'day' entails another day of waiting for your favorite authors to publish their newest literary concoctions. Waiting can be such a booze right?
And third, because this cosmic journey is a test of patience and perseverance. Humanity has been sailing space for three years, four months and twelve days now, and New Earth is still over eight years to reach. I wonder if I'd be dead by then. I mean, I could commit suicide out of sheer mediocrity and desperation you know. But still. I wonder if I could live for the next eight years waking up seeing stars.