Most stuff is never allowed to visit. Various remote sensors and controls probe the alien expanse beyond your secluded prison abode.
You may never leave, or at least, no one has yet successfully escaped to tell the tale. Some have gambled fortunes that such an escape is inevitable in post mortem preservation of a rogue self.
My body is a generational ship built by ever-improving ships who left the water eons ago. We’re all specialized now, but I’m just a bunch of cells that got really good at thinking about food. I’m just a funny pattern that insists upon variations of itself.