Alf
Alf... Alf... Alf...
Alf is a character in a show. He is an alien, crash-landed on Earth. He wants to eat the cat but is not allowed. He is brown and furry. He is brown like a chocolate doughnut. Maybe all the wives of New England know that. If there is too much on your plate, if you find yourself overwhelmed by what is out there, it’s okay to say “I did not ask for this, I do not want this.” If it makes you think of your own plates, whatever they may look like, that’s okay too. Many people are hungry or hungry for something. Waters grow and shrink, rivers swell and slow. Many people look away from themselves, away. We are scared to stop in the middle of large rooms with no particular purpose, because that is not considered a valid destination. And the brainwaves, like surfing waves. All this, all this for a meaningless checkmark. I can’t figure out who made Alf though. Who would have done that? Someone said "Here is a little alien, he’s imaginary, but he will make you feel better."
I’ve been crying for ten minutes now because I can’t figure out who would have made Alf. But I was laughing too, and I laughed for a long time at toast, just toast. We’re made of a mess of colors and moods, bits and pieces of experience flickering like candle flames, but we build ourselves up into these big solid constructions with walls and rules and say “No one will ever get inside me! This is my space!” I want to tell everyone about Alf, and give them a butterscotch candy, and we can all think about it together. I’ve been crying and laughing so hard, because the walls are getting cleaned for the first time in a century. I can breathe in here. Moved all the boxes to the side, so much room now I can dance freely. And there are rainbow things. I don't even know what they are! Ahh what was I thinking, to ever feel so harshly. Riding a bicycle! Golden fields! Art books! It almost makes you want to get in touch with everyone and fix things. Almost.
All I’m asking is, don’t mess me up with your twisted psychological games! To which everyone will agree, and then do it anyway because we’re humans, and we don’t trust each other, we don’t agree, we hold on to resentment, we feel ignored, used, unappreciated.
Everything we imagine is just an amplification of the way we think things are. Alf. Automatic Learning Fatigue.
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2023 - 2024