For as long as I can remember, I have lived as an alien among you, an outsider, a stranger, every human condition a strange land. And I am not just an outsider living among you, I’m an outsider in my own body, disconnected, buried in this meat. I don’t know who I am or where I come from other than I am not from here and I am not me. I never have been.
I’ve spent my life watching you, amazed and baffled by your human condition. Nothing you say or think or do ever makes any sense. Your humanness is impenetrable to me, like these eyes let me see beyond my own skin, and into your world, but I can’t feel the breeze there, smell the smells. Your touch is like a hand on my shoulder in the winter, an echo of pressure through a wool coat.
Love has never been any different. Many might describe the sensation as being connected. But for me, it’s more like being protected. When I’m in love, I’m finally free. I can shed my skin and retreat to my bubble, some place not here, where I’m not an alien, some place natural, devoid of all this human meat. I can wrap myself in me, separate and protected. For me, love and passion — be they for people or things — tear open my skull and set me free.
Laughter does the same.
If you ever wonder why I do the things I do, what I’m thinking when I see you, or why I might seem distant or distracted… this is why. I don’t know where I’ve come from or why. As impenetrable as you creatures are, I have enjoyed the ride. It’s definitely been interesting, and I rise every day curious to see where you’ll take me next.