I was born in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada on May 2, 1977… in a universe parallel to this one. I went through a vortex from there to here a bit over three and a half years ago. I think the planet is named Arcturus. It’s in a different location here. It kind of fucks things up a little.
This has understandably messed up my curriculum vitae. My references do not know me. The last two decades of my work history, my years and college and high school all seem meaningless. My birth certificate does not seem to appear in any database. Is this an error or did I really just materialize in a tent at a party somewhere? I don’t think any of those people knew who I was really when I ran away from them in dazed and confused awkwardness.
The overwhelming embarrassment when I realized I did not exist in this universe before I arrived only caught up to me recently. That has to be why all the military and defense organizations around the planet make inside jokes at me but the media outright refuses to admit I exist. People are still uncomfortable about aliens. People dislike the notion of weird beings invading their universe and not adapting to Earth society immediately upon our arrival.
…Except it’s just me. Just one body. Just a microscopic speck on a microscopic speck surrounded by space and nothing… and yet somehow this universe can tell I am not from here and it’s somehow fucking up everything. And people know it. They can tell. They can tell if someone is a tourist and they can go ahead and tell me right there to travel 36 light years back to the star I came from – if they really did have any sense that I two the planet Arcturus by being here instead.
Not my Earth. Your Earth is weird. Ever since I’ve been here I’ve had to deal with all this annoying telepathy all over the place. If you want to get dis-invited to parties and weddings and such, suddenly become telepathic. Nothing will make people want you out of their events more than too much telepathy.
“Oh, don’t invite him. He’ll post about it on Facebook and Trump will make 37 tweets about it.”
If there were a law it would be against it.
But then you end up getting really chummy with all the monks and nuns on the planet because those guys know all about telepathy. That’s probably why they are always grinning so fucking hard and not saying very much. It’s an inside joke no one has to articulate. Everyone else assumes it must be really good weed or something, but no. Well it could be. I’m sure there are blazing monks somewhere. I gotta find them and join up — unless telepathy isn’t really my actual problem fitting in.
The other weird thing I have to deal with being in a different universe goes hand in glove with the whole annoying telepathy thing. Well, I mean aside from pretending to not be telepathic and then finding other telepaths and playing the whole Mystery Science 3000 game around them where when we talk it’s like we’re talking over the movie… which is a whole other set of annoying problems. I’m mainly bitching about quantum entanglements. Pain in the as if you ask me.
I could feel something was off as soon as I got here. It felt like I was a big ball of insane bouncing elastic bands, snapping against everything in the foreign universe around me. The entire universe was talking directly to me — me the strange foreign microscopic dick fucking it, creating a new concept of sex I was previously unaware of.
Sex in the new universe proved impossible. It was impossible to separate any “individual” being away from the whole of everything else it was attached to. There was no possibility of separating a being off from it all in a successful way. I have to talk to the whole thing like it is a person — a person I am strangely inside of, and borrowing its eyes to see. Somehow this makes me two people all the time – never alone – inside a localized telepathic field which entertains us constantly even if the rest of the universe around us were to ignore us. It doesn’t matter. We have each other… the strange being I am inside and the universe surrounding it. Our mismatched eyes, our strange tendency to cancel each other out on a quantum level if we try to accomplish anything at all. It is as though I became entangled with the exact opposite of myself and we’re both fused in the same place in space time, and it causes these ripple effects of catch 22s throughout the universe around us.
Somehow it became extremely important to convince the surrounding foreign universe that this was all hilariously funny, and no cause for them all to attack us as alien invaders. Every radio and television frequency beamed out into space reverberated back onto me 36 or so odd light years away with my anachronistic existence signalling a response back to it. It is possible to fall in love with ghosts in the radio signal. They travel on forever into the cosmos, you know. The radio signals are a part of everything else. You can’t even see them… but they are real… interacting synchronistically with the sights and sounds of everything else in this interconnected universe.
I am hopelessly addicted to these Signals. Can someone help me get back to Nevada? I gotta go shoot down my own throat in the desert.
Comedians call this shit “crowd work”.