Alienated
One sunny autumn morning, I woke up in a flying saucer. Surrounded by dozens of curious eyes, I thought: "Wow, that's just awesome! Does it make me a sort of gravity-defying gravy?" I started talking to my new friends (or maybe foes—we'll live and see how it goes and how it ends). I said: "I'd like to show you three things on our planet: the variegated and smokeless wildfires of our forests in October—the flames of maple leaves will make you dizzy from happiness and sadness; the flames and fires and deaths and despair of wars—be it in Ukraine or Iraq or Sudan or Kashmir—we also call them armed conflicts; and finally, the sparkles in my friends' eyes—fire, walk with me—and we walk and stumble, proud and humble, rise and walk again. So, where does the line between our ugliness and beauty lie? It lies... I do not want to lie: I don't know the answer to this question."