Every Day …

Every Day …

… I’m a different person. Every day, I wake up in the body of a terrestrial. I’m myself, but at the same time I’m not. I pass from a man to a woman. At first, it was hard, but now I make myself more agreeable. Has been like this since analogue television was experiencing its maximum moment of activity. The radio signal was spreading freely in space at the speed of light and wasn’t absorbed by cosmic dust or clouds. It could be intercepted. My prime objective was studying Earth and collecting data to transmit to my home world. From the body I’ve access to a mind: most of the information I need are there waiting for me. I’ve made mistakes in the past, but now I’m being careful:

I can more easily mask my surprise and ask fewer questions;

I complain about the boredom of daily routine;

I laugh at bad jokes too, only because I’ll never be able to understand Earth’s sense of humor;

I pay attention at allergies;

I don’t dance in syncopation movement any more;

I certainly eat a lot more cereal now;

I’ve learned the plot of Romeo and Juliet.

But above all, I’m done looking for the truth about God, but I realized that if God spared Keith Richards it’s because he’s probably also a fan of Rolling Stones.

how strange:
every year Miss Universe
an Earth woman

 Antonietta Losito

 

Every Day …

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