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To appease my place in the world (I'm an odd duck) I daydreamed I was from outer space. My space parents would return one day from galactic war, and save me from my sheltered and disciplinary life, whisking me off to somewhere I belong. The theme resonated, the exploration peaked and now, the idea is dead. I don't speak or learn like anyone. I obsess over the knowledge I've accumulated. A chunk of that knowledge is incomplete. When we know the outcome of a life puzzle, the need for experience cancels it. I immediately cancel it. That's me obsessing. "I am not like anyone" was cute when they wanted to fuck the weirdness out of me but I don't want to be cute in my 50s. I thought I could be my odd self living with my brothers and sisters in unity and serenity where my odd duck could happily swim but we are one without of a kind. The world became too fast. The elders received the least consideration by the complexities of tech (I don't see the reason why we need to decode everything when that's a techie's job. It should have a three button maximum) and the obliteration of our language. We either explode (Karens are born, though I've always preferred Gladys - wink, wink) or give up (volunteered dementia.) The life we lived was a Matrix lie. We stand naked without the comfort of our past because our lives were nothing. We tiptoe through the new one in limbo because the history that made us, the burdens don't want. The war is as much about family and parenting as it is about everything else. The assholes jumped ship as soon as they graduated from Pedo Tech leaving the uncomplicated in a sad and overwhelmed state. We are the deleted ones. The ones not applicable to the environment. We are slaves to the new honorable and humanitarian corporation that is loosely based on movie ideals. It looks like they stand for shit when its just the other side of the same coin. I like to deduce my own answers and I'm tired of bowing. I just want to survive. I trashed my knees for nothing. Every insult I've hurled, I've received, every love that I've experienced I shared. It's the end of the road. The aliens either don't exist or after the countless anal analyzations they booked. What were the results? The reason we can't reach the other planets is because that's where our afterlife begins. We'll keep ending back here until we reach Star Wars reality. We are the aliens. We've been searching for ourselves. 07-Sep-2020