Writing makes me sleepy

I can't sleep. While it seems like everyone is off in every corner of the world I am in Highland Utah awake laying in bed staring at my ceiling. I wish my room didn't have a ceiling. Instead, I wish it was glass. So I could look up at the stars all night long. (Fun fact, I love the stars and space. I would go star gazing over just about anything). How cool would it be to be able to just watch the universe as you drift off to sleep. All the galaxy's amaze me. They are all so big and have so much unknown to them. It makes me think what even am I, compared to them. Is there other life out there looking out and seeing me? If there is then we can't be to different if we are both staring into the stars. This probably makes you think I want to be a astronaut. I couldn't be an astronaut. I would never want to come back to earth.  After all maybe that wouldn't be so bad. I would be able to star gaze all the time. I wouldn't have to come back and live with all the fake people in my life. I would want to stay out in space making friends with shooting stars and play baseball with meteors. Now I'm starting to fall asleep. Finally.

Goodnight.