Alien amongst Men

There are times I stop and think about things that I normally don't question. The questions hurt. They hurt a lot.

I often find myself questioning why people find me so funny. That sounds dumb, doesn't it? I often tell myself that to keep my emotions at bay. I tell myself that everything will be fine. However, questioning why people would consider me, of all people, funny, it somehow seems warranted.

Let me explain my reasoning here to the potential reader. I do not consider myself as a funny person. I simply speak and people burst out laughing. In my mind, you have to try to be funny, and that's the only way to get people to laugh at something. Do you want people to laugh? Tell a joke.

If I'm not telling jokes, people shouldn't be laughing. So the only other explanation to this is that they're faking it. I've somehow implanted it in to my mind that I'm just such a sorry sap that no one could possibly think that I'm good enough. They probably pity me and are therefore trying to cheer me up and laugh at jokes that aren't funny so I feel like I belong.

When I speak, I carry very little emotion. It becomes difficult for others to pick up on what I mean. People often receive false positives when I act certain ways. For example, when I become quiet, it doesn't mean I'm upset or having a bad day. It simply means I wanted to be quiet and not talk.

When I don't smile, it doesn't mean I'm upset either. If you tell me a joke and I don't laugh, it doesn't mean I'm upset, it means your joke wasn't funny. Telling me to smile when I don't want to smile, isn't going to make me smile.

I often question if there's something wrong with me. I often ask myself why I continue. Asking these questions feel productive, but when examined further, they reveal the exact opposite. Asking one question reveals several more. Each question reveals a broken part of me that I have trouble dealing with. I shut myself off from the world and wish that someone would just say hello.

Sometimes I wonder if my mental capabilities are suffering as the days go on. Humans do not have the capability to gauge themselves, and I'm afraid to reveal my problems to a professional because I don't want to lose my own freedom. For all I know, I could be losing my mind, and I'd have no idea. That scares me.

I've had conversations with friends and forgotten what we had spoken about. I had forgotten the entire conversation we had a mere week after it had happened. I do not know if I had forgotten the information sooner, but it is very likely that I had forgotten the entire conversation in less than twelve hours. That friend has displayed concern that one day I'm just not going to know who they are.

I feel cold and alone. I want someone I can spend time with. Someone I can count on. Someone I can call a friend.

There are things I cherish, like the blissful happiness of when I was a child. When I was carefree and had no responsibilities, I didn't view things with logic or with an understanding. Everything was magical, and everything seemed so perfect. Thinking back on the times when I wasn't a cynical prick makes me realize how broken of a person I am.

I hold onto things because I have so little of it. When I was a human, I'd find myself in a cold room with a cold bed. I got sick of the feeling and started taking frequent hot showers. I'd curl up in a ball and let the warmth wash over me until the hot water ran out.

I used to never listen to music, but now I use it as a distraction so I don't realize how lonely I am. I spend entire days or weeks without proper social interaction. I lie to myself and say that social media will provide that interaction I crave. However, nothing can ever replace the experience of talking to someone face to face.

I would procrastinate and tell myself there's plenty of time left in my life. Well unfortunately life comes at you fast. I failed to anticipate the totally likely event that I'd turn into a fucking bird horse. When I was a human, I was a simple visit to school away from a proper friend. However, after turning into a Pegasus, I'm entire country away from someone of the same species.

Sometimes I question if I could find someone that would be able to put up with me. I convince myself that trying to find someone like that would be incredibly unlikely. Today's society has people of my age sitting at home on their laptops or computers. Hardly anyone goes outside. I am no different.

The situation has only been made worse with the addition of a whole new fucking species. For all I know, that green blur in New York is the only other person that could possibly relate to what I've gone through. Actually, fuck that. That green blur might not even be a Pegasus, but rather a prank that some engineer made on his free time.

On the topic of questioning if things are real are not. I'm still questioning if any of this shit is real. I mean, seriously. Let's think rationally here, I just woke up as a Pegasus after spending my entire life as a human? No, I don't fucking believe that for a second. I refuse to believe it.

However, there's a small part of me that wants to believe that I'm not alone. A part of me that believes this is actually happening and that green blur is an actual person. It's so unlikely that someone else would be in the same position as I am in. However, it's also incredibly unlikely that a human could turn into a Pegasus.

The chances of someone waking up as a whole other species is incredibly low. However, it was proven to be a percentage above zero a week or two ago. As much as I'd hate to travel across the entire country to find something that doesn't exist, I'd hate to leave that person all alone.

This situation is fucked in so many ways I've lost count. I'll have to talk to Max after I get out of this bathroom. I want to find this green Pegasus. I need to find that green Pegasus.

Until next time, reader.