Every morning starts with a new wave of headlines—another ballistic missile attack launched by Russia, another unhinged tweet from tech messiah hijacking the White House and playing kingmaker with programs meant to belong to humanity, not shareholders. The words "I need space" have never felt more urgent.

Is there an escape from this madness? What kind of space I am talking about? Is it physical space? Mental space? It might all sound pretty metaphorical at first, but for some of us Space is pretty essential. The shrinking private space and the urgency of its defence is in a strong juxtaposition with the literal expanse of the cosmos—that vast frontier where humanity once looked for hope, discovery, and progress? The truth is, it's all of the above. "I need space" is no longer just a personal plea; it's a cultural one, echoing across the minds of artists, scientists, thinkers, and everyday people trying to hold on to their sanity.

I Need My Space: The Mental Toll of an Unhinged World

Personal space has always been essential—a boundary for peace, a buffer against chaos. But in 2025, it's not just about needing a quiet room to think. It's about finding creative shelter from a world that feels increasingly designed to exhaust us. Social media has become a battlefield, not just of opinions but of carefully orchestrated propaganda and corporate interests posing as grassroots movements.

Take the ongoing assault on truth itself. From disinformation campaigns to the whitewashing of authoritarianism, it's hard to tell what's real and what’s manufactured. And amidst it all, the very institutions that once represented humanity's highest aspirations—like NASA—find themselves entangled in the spiral of private equity interest. Not elected bodies. Invented efficiency departements. Not elected Elon Musk. Just a fascist billionaire deciding the fate of space exploration like it’s another startup acquisition.

I Need More Space: When Dreams Get Bought Out

Space used to represent hope—a shared human endeavor that goes beyond borders and politics. The Artemis program was supposed to be the next giant leap, a promise that the dream of exploration was alive and well. But now, that dream is being quietly auctioned off. Private equity—with direct conflicts of interest—is shaping the future of the Moon, Mars, and beyond. The likes of SpaceX, once lauded as partners in progress, now appear less like innovators and more like monopolists, consolidating power while firing the very NASA engineers whose genius got us here in the first place.

And who holds them accountable? Certainly not voters. Certainly not the scientific community. Instead, it’s a parade of unchecked ambition—billionaires more interested in cutting costs and inflating stock prices than advancing human understanding. When the richest man in the world can singlehandedly decide which projects get funded and which don’t, space stops being a shared dream and becomes another privatized playground.

I Need Personal Space: Creativity Under Siege

For artists—especially those inspired by the cosmos—this reality is suffocating. How can one create when every glance at the news reveals another crack in the foundation of progress? How can sculptors, painters, writers, and musicians continue to channel the awe of the universe when the very exploration that fuels their imagination is being hijacked by corporate interests?

Creative work thrives on freedom—not just freedom from censorship, but freedom from the constant mental load of crisis. Every headline about layoffs at NASA, every report about Artemis delays, every smug social media post from a billionaire who thinks government should "run more like a business" chips away at the space we need to dream, to invent, to build.

I Need Space: A Call to Reclaim the Future

Ultimately, "I need space" is about more than personal well-being. It's about protecting the last frontiers of human potential from being carved up by those who see exploration as just another revenue stream. It’s about ensuring that space—both literal and metaphorical—remains a domain of discovery, not domination.

We need space to think without fear of the next geopolitical catastrophe. Space to create without wondering if the projects that inspire us will be shelved because they don’t fit into a billionaire’s quarterly earnings report. Space to believe that progress is driven by collective effort—scientists, artists, dreamers—not by corporate consolidation.

The fight for space—both personal and cosmic—is a fight for sanity, for creativity, for democracy itself. Because when one man can hold an entire space program hostage, when the dreams of astronauts and engineers are subject to shareholder whims, it's not just NASA that suffers—it's all of us. The dreamers. The creators. The people who look up at the night sky and still believe that humanity's best days are ahead.

So yes, I need space. Not just for myself, not just to keep creating sculptures inspired by the Rosette Nebula, the Pillars of Creation, or Europa—but for everyone who refuses to let the future be bought and sold. I need space to breathe, to hope, to push back against the creeping corporatization of discovery.

Because without space—mental, physical, and cosmic—we don't just lose progress. We lose the very thing that makes us human: the drive to explore, to understand, to build something greater than ourselves.

I need space. We all do. And it's time to take it back.

Let´s meet on Reddit

I have my own subreddit called r/galactic_fossils you are more than welcome to come by and share your opinion on the current state of the events. If it is Astrophotography, Space or Space art. You are welcome there!

Peter Von Hauerland