the art of not becoming dull once you’ve run out of light

once upon a time the universe exploded. i don’t really remember what happened but we were kicked out of our home in the star that we lived in.

luckily we landed on the same planet,

though oceans and storms parted us.

on a chilly august morning i saw you sitting on your own

and with imaginary flowers i planned to give you

my alien hands shook to the point where even my thoughts trembled

scared of them being so loud that you’d hear them

so i just whispered to myself ‘your presence feels like home’


with beautiful poetry that only an alien could write

and i asked ‘hey, do you want to go out with me? like on a date… i don’t know, we can hit up the movies, i kinda got two tickets to go see space’

you turned around with that glorious hair and a smile that kinda made me want to stay and you said ‘yeah sure, we should hang out some day’

and my little alien heart went home skipping beats and barely ate for the next couple of days

so time as humankind knew it went by and i came up to you with eyes that i thought only a fellow alien would understand and said ‘i kinda like music and i kinda like movies’ but i don’t know who i am in this world. (i left out the last part because i wasn’t sure how you’d take it.)

so you turned around and laughed a laugh that kinda made me want to be better and in that moment, i understood that multidimensionality existed everywhere in the universe because you told me with kind hazel eyes in a language only we understood that you knew i was lost (even though i didn’t) but in human language you said ‘it always makes me so happy to see you’ and you hugged me

right then, my little alien heart started beating as slowly as it ever had, almost as if it were sure that there was no rush, that things were just right. however i forgot to do crucial things like sleep and other important stuff that i should have done.

we went on car rides and you sang songs i had never heard and you showed me why people try to find love their whole lives. i stared with only wonder in my eyes and i tried to keep up with you as much as i could. you reached my heart, a task extremely hard to accomplish.

so anyway, i kinda popped up one day with all the courage that only a human would have, because aliens knew better but i’d spent too much time here. and i probably blushed and maybe looked a little pathetic but i came up to you and said ‘hey, it’s me, you remember me, right?’ and here i was basically crying inside but then your eyes lit up, almost as if you remembered the time you fell asleep on my chest and within the quiet somber we found the loudest sound that made our bodies irradiate light. but anyway, you said ‘duh, obviously. what’s up? let’s do something tonight’ and i went home feeling like maybe i would see light and not people and you’d take time to see me. so i went to your house just like we said and i had my bags packed with the little stuff i wished to keep from earth and i called you and you didn’t respond. by then, i was confused as fuck because in human time, we seemed to never be on time. so i texted you and said ‘i thought we were doing something tonight, i’m outside of your house’

and you responded half an hour later with ‘shit i forgot.’ i tried being dramatic to get your attention because it seemed like i had lost it already. i practically begged you to come home to me again and you said ‘sorry, i can’t. i love the beach too much’ and i said ‘cool, i love the beach too. i just need you around’ and you said ‘sorry i’ll make it up to you’’ and then you didn’t and i didn’t know what to do so i went away to a new star that’s very far into space and if you ever care for my address, you might just need to make some memory to find it inside you.

so now i’m here, writing from this new star in which everything seems to have been destroyed. my new star is not the sun but coming here seemed like the right thing to do. it’s a little foggy and the only thing i see are ashes and pieces of what used to be something. i have only a vague memory of what happened.

now i live in a star where no one gets it because i’m the only alien and the only anything. i listen to rock and roll and drink beer and enjoy sunsets, but never as the same time as you. i’m now a full-time alien that writes and makes art because i’d rather do that than live a painfully average life. also, before i go, i wrote you a letter, you might want to check it out if you have time.

dear +:

i tag you as + because i forgot your alien name after the explosion. i’m confused about a lot of things. but i miss you and i still have hope that maybe we can go back to being cosmic. every time i see you, you’re more human and i’m more alien and home doesn’t feel like a place you want to be in anymore. for the next part, please picture me in my alien gown in a stage talking to you with flowers and a rusty piece of paper, or maybe at the metro station in new york, i don’t know, somewhere you like. there’s a lot of noise and i’m crying but looking pretty as i’m reading this outloud:

LET’S HANG OUT. LET’S DO SOMETHING. WHAT ARE YOU UP TO THIS WEEKEND. WHAT MUSIC DO YOU LIKE. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE PLACE IN THE WORLD. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE MOVIE. FORGET ALL THIS. WHAT I MEAN TO SAY IS WHEN I ASK YOU THINGS LIKE THAT IS THAT I THINK WE BELONG TOGETHER AND I DONT REMEMBER OUR ADDRESS BUT WE USED TO LIVE TOGETHER WE USED TO HAVE A BOND SO STRONG THAT IT’S LIVED ON ACROSS TIME AND SPACE AND I THINK I’VE FOUND YOU, I THINK I REMEMBER WHAT BEING HOME FEELS LIKE.

as i finish reading, i get off the stage or whatever and you don’t clap and you don’t say anything because you weren’t even there to see it. i’d blame you but i never had the guts to invite you to hear it.

truthfully, i hadn’t realized that i am an alien until i saw you again. it’s almost like i touched you and i regained a part of who i am instead of who this world was trying to make me. however, i am now fully conscious and i remembered what happened even if it’s just parts. we aliens refer to love as cosmic bonding. this is a type of bond that reflects the most powerful force in the universe: the power to create. with this, however, i am left with half and you get to keep yours. i hope you do something kind with it and enjoy it by the beach with your friends, which i know you adore.

i will keep mine and create tragically as i try to keep my light alive during these times which threaten to dull me. i hope you understand i write about you because it’s weird being home and not being home at the same time. it’s weird trying to light up the space with signs that only you’d get and getting nothing in return.

i thank you for the time in this earth. it was as humanly as a human experience could’ve been. i will proceed to making art now since it is the only thing i remember how to do. if you ever wish to come back to see me, know you can but only through a glass door. however, the door is unlocked really and you can come in even if you don’t ask because i love you.

i will be protecting you and making sure you’re alright even if it’s across the universe. i’ll be disguised as human or maybe an astronaut or maybe even something cooler if i find a good costume that fits.

please continue being you. listen to your music and watch movies and share light and love with everyone you meet.

your biggest fan,

me.

and that’s it. that’s how this story ends. it’s tragic and confusing but then, you can see it however you want. i don’t expect you to get it. not even my alien mind gets it. but maybe our hearts will.