I don't believe I could handle living in space. All that endless velvety blackness. Is there a word for the opposite of claustrophobia? The inestimable riches of earth--sky, clouds, wind, trees, color, life, flora and fauna and seasons and the waxing and waning of day and night--all seem humanly and psychologically necessary for us. We were made for this place, and we couldn't readily adjust to living in tin cans or squarely faced with an unfathomable black abyss.
But I've always wanted to visit various points in space. Other stars, planets, nebulae... I wouldn't know where to begin.