I am solitary in the universe, there is one like me.
I never believed in reincarnation but the only explanation for my current predicament, trapped on this blue sphere, is divine retribution for past sins.
Each day I try to learn more about them. My mission has no clear parameters, so I learn all that I can. But there is far too much, they are far too much. Too large, too small, too anything.
As a rule, human beings generally don’t like me.
Which is fair. The truth is, I don’t particularly care for most of them either.
I don’t understand them. I don’t know why they talk and behave and think and sing and dance and cry and argue the way they do.
Human beings generally dislike me, I generally dislike them.
However there is a magnetism.
I crave them, I live for them, I breathe for them.
They are in my bones and my blood and every strand of my hair
And I want them
And I want them to want me
I want to be loved.
I wear my disguise.
I do my best to talk like them, to use language as a tool. Words are power. But they are ever morphing and changing and I am caught behind
I behave as they do. I laugh at the correct places in the script, I say my lines perfectly, I smile and nod and I am silent when it is not my turn to rule the stage. But it isn’t organic enough.
I find myself wondering what they would do, why would they do it? But the thoughts don’t come
I sing and dance in bars and clubs and restaurants across the world, and yet I do not truly understand their purpose.
But I cry.
I cry far more often than I used to.
That much I understand.
And I can’t argue.
Because there is no one to argue with.
And I cry again because loneliness should not be powerful enough to make me wish I had humans to argue with at the very least.
I’m tired of trying.
I don’t understand human beings. But I want them.
And they don’t want me.
I am solitary in the universe, there is one like me. And I will live and die this way.