Well, here I am. On Earth. Placed here until my time. I shall explore this world and record my observances. I shall call this my Journial. It is a journal of my journey.
Humans. Homo sapiens. They call themselves such funny names. They've lived on this planet thousands of years - like, six thousand nine hundred and sixty-three or something like that. Not nearly as long as they think they have been, but a decent amount of time anyway. I'm not sure I was told the exact age of this beautiful place - or if I was told I forgot. Never been good with my schooling.
But these humans tell me they've been around for millions of years. Don't they realize that everything would be long gone and destroyed if it took that long for them to be here? They're so strange. They base everything around time and their "years" around the star they call the sun and their "dating" methods. And yet they don't understand that in the end it doesn't matter? That everyone is only given so much time to live? That instead of arguing about how old the earth is or how old such-an-such (isn't that a great phrase?) person has to be considered as an adult, each one should be focused on using the life he has to fulfill his purpose.
But that's another thing. So many humans can't figure out their purpose or don't even bother to find out because they don't want to know. I shouldn't nag. Even I still wonder what I am doing here. Can't I just go home?
But no, I am here. I should make the most of my time - learn as much as I can about the human race and maybe I'll learn my place in this world at the same time.
I think that it will be hard though. There are so many unspoken rules of etiquette. I'm going to make mistakes eventually. What will they think of me? I know I appear human. In many instances, I am; well, sort of anyway. Will they understand if I tell them? No. They'll just think I'm crazy. But that would be true too.
I laugh as I write this. Why am I so worried about getting it right? I'm not perfect. I know, I know. I'm afraid that I will mess up so bad that I'll have to face the consequences.
Oh dear. And living here without quite knowing what I'm supposed to be doing is hard enough. And then you add the complicated social behavior of the different societies on top of that...it's enough to cook a brain.
A. L. Yan
Humans. Homo sapiens. They call themselves such funny names. They've lived on this planet thousands of years - like, six thousand nine hundred and sixty-three or something like that. Not nearly as long as they think they have been, but a decent amount of time anyway. I'm not sure I was told the exact age of this beautiful place - or if I was told I forgot. Never been good with my schooling.
But these humans tell me they've been around for millions of years. Don't they realize that everything would be long gone and destroyed if it took that long for them to be here? They're so strange. They base everything around time and their "years" around the star they call the sun and their "dating" methods. And yet they don't understand that in the end it doesn't matter? That everyone is only given so much time to live? That instead of arguing about how old the earth is or how old such-an-such (isn't that a great phrase?) person has to be considered as an adult, each one should be focused on using the life he has to fulfill his purpose.
But that's another thing. So many humans can't figure out their purpose or don't even bother to find out because they don't want to know. I shouldn't nag. Even I still wonder what I am doing here. Can't I just go home?
But no, I am here. I should make the most of my time - learn as much as I can about the human race and maybe I'll learn my place in this world at the same time.
I think that it will be hard though. There are so many unspoken rules of etiquette. I'm going to make mistakes eventually. What will they think of me? I know I appear human. In many instances, I am; well, sort of anyway. Will they understand if I tell them? No. They'll just think I'm crazy. But that would be true too.
I laugh as I write this. Why am I so worried about getting it right? I'm not perfect. I know, I know. I'm afraid that I will mess up so bad that I'll have to face the consequences.
Oh dear. And living here without quite knowing what I'm supposed to be doing is hard enough. And then you add the complicated social behavior of the different societies on top of that...it's enough to cook a brain.
A. L. Yan
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