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🚀⚡Astro @astro.ftl.sh · 03/04/2026

> I get the feeling the rocket launch was therapeutic for you. I can only imagine it would be an almost spiritual experience.

For sure.

I quite literally cried.

I could write three full screens worth of messages and still not truly find the words to describe what emotions I was feeling in that moment.

I think it might be one of the rare few times where I can say something was "awesome" and truly mean it.

It left me struck, standing there, completely full of awe.

Like, picture this:

Have a dream all your life about somehow contributing to human exploration of space. Develop the skills to do just that. Get a job in human spaceflight. Spend 5 years of your life working on a spacecraft that will one day carry humans. It always seeming forever away...

And then suddenly we have a launch date. And you wake up on that day and it doesn't feel real, but with every passing milestone in the countdown it gets closer and closer. Still, you think, "they're gonna scrub, there's no way this happens."

And then suddenly you're standing at Kennedy Space Center, counting down from 10, and watching this ball of fire ascend into the sky.

At first, you just think "fuck yeah this is awesome, I love rockets," as one usually does when standing 6 miles away from 8.8 million pounds of thrust.

And then it hits you: there are people on that rocket. People you've met, shook hands with, gotten to know. Those people are truly incredible human beings, and you're helping them fulfill their dreams. You helped build the spacecraft they're sitting in. You wrote code on the displays they're looking at _right now._ You're a part of this.

They're going to the moon, and a part of you is going with them.

They are safe and sound and flying through the air on their way to the _fucking moon._

This is the most important thing you've ever done.

You've been working on this for 5 years. This has lasted longer than most things in your life have. Your friends have walking, talking children now that weren't even a concept when you started on this.

The love of your life (so far) entered your life, made it so much better, then left your life and made it so much worse, all in the span you've been working on this mission. And yet this spacecraft is still here. Integrity is still here. It was here long before you met her, and it remains long after her.

Everything that you've done and that has happened to you, shaped you and contributed in some small way to you standing here, watching what is effectively your life's work, soar.

And not just soar, but do so damn near perfectly. Everything is going perfect. Everyone is safe, we're hitting all mission objectives. That's not your fault, you're not the sole reason it's going so well. But it's not _not_ your fault either.

You're standing there, on hallowed ground, surrounded by some of your closest friends who you were lucky enough to have the opportunity to bring with you, to share this moment. This moment that is both historic in a broad sense, and also so deeply, personally impactful to you.

All of this hits you like a tidal wave, all at once. All of these emotions, and none of them negative. You're hit with pride, and joy, and excitement, and love for humanity, and _awe._ You feel AWE at this, in the true meaning of the word.

You start to cry. You get dizzy and can't stand anymore, so you sit in the grass. The fire ants are tearing you to shreds but you don't even notice. Your friend, who you love and cherish, is right next to where you effectively collapsed. They start rubbing your back, not saying anything, just letting you know that it's okay, and that you're not alone.

And you realize, no, you're not alone in this moment, not even close. You're sitting next to some of your closest friends. You're in a field at Kennedy with some of your fellow Artemis employees. You're surrounded by love and support. Your phone is exploding with notifications (that you completely ignore, they'll be there later). And outside of this field, you've got an entire program that's all coming together to enjoy this, this cathartic moment of a job well done. Even the astronauts are taking a moment to enjoy it. And you're being cheered on by _millions_, not just in this country, but around the world. Artemis goes, for all humanity. And in this moment, humanity is here with you. We, are, going.

BECO happens, and you realize a breath you'd been holding is finally released. MECO happens and this field you're standing in _fucking erupts._ We did it. _We_ did it.

You cry again.

Then, you stand up, you hug your friends, you stand there for a good, long moment, staring at the sky, taking it all in.

And then you go home. Because there's still 9 days worth of mission to go, and the work isn't over yet. Not even close. You've still gotta get through splashdown. And then after that, you've got Artemis 3. And then 4! You thought flying to the moon was cool? Try landing on it. _We are going._ And the work has only begun.

So yeah.

I was feeling a lot of things.

Pokebert @pokebert.bsky.social · 03/04/2026

I am so fucking proud of you