Poem: Field notes from an alien

An excerpt from my poetry book

Today is the 3 year anniversary of my poetry + meme book, How to Laugh in Ironic Amusement During Your Existential Crisis. The following is a poem from the book, as well as some memes and art.

Field notes from an alien

Hello. It’s me, Eshu, from the Sirius galaxy. 

I have successfully landed on Earth and infiltrated human civilization. It wasn’t too hard. The people on this planet were far too preoccupied with internal anxieties and petty social disagreements to notice. 

Plus, they only seem to believe what their strangely powerful centralized institutions – known as “media” and “government” – tell them to believe, instead of trusting the instinct of their all-knowing hearts. 

The planet itself isn’t so bad. It would be beautiful if not for the trash. It seems the people’s disorganized thoughts and emotions have manifested outwardly as social unrest and environmental crisis. I would recommend a collective parasite cleanse, both inside and out.

These humans confuse me. Their reactionary and combustible interpersonal relationships – which value personal ego validation above collective harmony – are not helping them. They don’t seem to understand that they are all part of the same organism, and separation from the “other” represents separation from the realized self. 

They dedicate their time and energy in strange ways, doing things they’d rather not do, merely to meet the expectations of their peers and to prop up the very system that requires them to do so – a trauma-bond with their own society. 

To relax, they stare at television altars to marvel at the scripted misery of others or lazily gaze at athletic reenactments of war. And they wonder why their nervous systems are in a state of perpetual crisis. 

It seems they take their superficial masks more seriously than they take their souls. They love to categorize themselves inside boxes – gender, race, religion, sexuality – then fight to defend their box. I imagine their spirits must feel quite claustrophobic. 

They chase after the illusion of desire yet don’t appreciate what they have. It’s almost like an addiction to the feeling of emptiness, a belief that they are not complete without the acquisition of an external validation that is never found. This appears exhausting.

To be honest, I’m surprised they’re doing as well as they are. It’s a miracle they haven’t exterminated themselves. And despite the obvious flaws in their civilization, many have managed to look within to find a guiding light inside. They laugh and dance and make love and sing and pray in pursuit of ecstasy to counterbalance their agony. The idea of sacred celebration, however, is still rare, and hasn’t yet gone viral in the species. 

I don’t imagine I’ll be staying here much longer. The food is pedestrian and there’s not much more to learn. Humans, it turns out, are rather predictable. The regular people will continue fighting over scraps of resources and ideology while the wealthy vultures feast on the dead. 

At some point we should consider direct intervention. They could certainly use our help. But not yet. They’re not ready. 

---

How to Laugh in Ironic Amusement During Your Existential Crisis is a humorous and hopeful collection of poetry + memes about being alive in strange times.