Journal of the Starseed

Dear pointless journal,

I am so sick of this place it isn’t funny. I still have zero understanding as to why The Universe allowed giant, egotistical, parasites to rise to power over this planet. It could be lovely here, but the inhabitants are an issue. Humans are horrible. Their corrupt nature, piss poor attitudes, and overinflated god complexes are infuriating. My life revolves around doing a bunch of mind numbingly boring shit while I smile and go along with their mind numbingly stupid agendas. It’s strange to exist here, as something you always assumed you would never be; a stain on the galactic landscape. Here I am existing though.

I don’t necessarily blame the Interstellar Counsel for delegating Earth as a prison planet, but I do loathe them for abandoning me here after they did. Those cowardly, self righteous souls deserve to have their feet gnawed on by hungry lionesses. Just because I got intrenched in human drama, doesn’t mean I think Leadership should have left me here rotting on this rock. After spending a chunk of decades trying to understand all this, I’ve concluded they really do need to take some responsibility. We were not prepared for our initial mission, or human integration at all. Studying the historical evolution of a species for six weeks in a lecture style class does not prepare you to actually become a member of that species. I was doomed from the beginning.

It doesn’t help that the idiots here don’t even understand they are prisoners. They have no idea that when they develop the means to make it outside their delegated corner of space, they will be stopped by Interstellar Guardians and returned immediately. Upper level Alliance members want nothing more to do with humans. Despite thousands of attempts to make contact and guide them to a greater understanding, humans have opted to ignore us and remain beastly things. It’s infuriating.

I was jumping for joy when I earned the opportunity to head up a human rehabilitation team. Naively believing that with positive intentions and a solid plan, I could really do some good here. I had hoped for a short innovative stint, and an early return home. How wrong I was.

There’s no longer any rehabilitation teams here. Earth’s been abandoned by them. It’s earmarked as a watch and wait planet. I heard there was some discussion about blowing the thing up so they could end the misery, but thankfully they decided to leave the place alone and allow the Earthlings to destroy it themselves. It won’t take long. It’s already in chaos. Although I don’t have any desire to spend eternity as a ghost like creature roaming around as my plasma self, surrounded by fire and darkness, it seems as though that’ll end up being my fate.

For a while I tried to make the best of being here, but I’ve been incapable of accomplishing anything productive. For 400 years I’ve passed the time by taking on various bodies, living their lives, experiencing humanness, and ultimately learning about the worst forms of death, disease, and destruction. My lives have never been grand. They have pretty much been torturous. I know part of that is my own fault, but why don’t the rule makers understand that if you push someone hard enough for long enough, they eventually break and go dark?

If I could teach them one thing, it would be that cruelty based punishment doesn’t actually accomplish anything. It only makes everything worse. I can never seem to better my soul, and always seem to fuck up when shit gets too hard. I’m scolded by higher powers and forced to come right back into another body. Sentenced to do ‘life’ all over again. No breaks. No visiting home. No peace. For me this isn’t prison, this is hell.

I’m a shell of the vibrant being I was before. When you live in a place this violent, it is surreal. The mental abuse people go through here, is evil. The global class system is barbaric. Most leaders do whatever they want, and the working pawns pay for it. Round and round in circles of hate and jealousy we go. Had I known I was being shipped off to the only place in The Universe where souls go to become horrendous, dark, narcissistic, psychopaths, I probably never would have volunteered to come.

I have concluded that you cannot evolve a species to become a peaceful, productive part of intergalactic workings when they refuse to let go of the kill or be killed mentality of the wretched beasts from which they evolved.

Every life I enter, I am forced to see that lesson right off that bat. I always seem to be born into a lower level class and witness tragedy, early. Then, I go a little nutty, do something human, and wind up right back where I started. A failure. I had hoped at some point I’d just become numb enough to survive one timeline without royally fucking it up. I obviously haven’t done that yet.

What might be the most pathetic part of my story is that I’ve been here before. I survived it beautifully. It was fun back then. I used to visit Earth often, many centuries ago when humans were just starting to evolve into beings of higher intelligence. I did a couple rounds of life, manned several of the early exhibition crews, and became close to some human born friends. When I was getting ready to return, I had imagined that 25,000 years of growth would have advanced people to a level near where I had been as a young thing roaming around Atlantis. Boy was I wrong. The only thing it seems humans have used their intellectual advancements for was making weaponry bigger, badder, more deadly killing. This place is not safe. At least now, any galactic being who dares visit receives a 100 page warning letter that ends with,

‘Good luck. You will need it.’

Most know to stay away.

As for me, I am an educated, ancient plasma being from a different galaxy. I ascended the ranks of the Intergalactic Alliance Force to become a Discovery General. I volunteered for this project thinking I could actually help, and came with a desire to catapult extraordinary changes. Instead of accomplishing anything, this world chewed me up, spit me out, and turned me into a murderous monster, they can continue to hold hostage. Yeah. Great fucking planet I’m stuck on. Really promotes growth and development.

When I first arrived, I took on the personification of a settler in a town located in the eastern part of the United States. That didn’t go well. I started talking about plant remedies for ailments, and teaching the others how to use the conscious mind to advance ones inner psychic gifts. The next thing I knew, I was being called a witch by the village kids and was hung for my supposed crimes. Publicly hanging people isn’t exactly something to be proud of, but those crazy fucks were sure pleased with themselves when they did it. I didn’t openly reveal my so called ‘witch’ qualities while inhabiting bodies after that.

Being a plasma being I can basically inhabit any body without a soul connected to it. The catch is, most bodies without souls connected to them are either dead or unwanted. I kinda get stuck with the bottom of the barrel choices regarding who I’m going to be. When I take on a body, I also must endure all the things that human body was delegated to experience. Pain, suffering, torture and early death are generally what I get. None of those things are fun, and I’ve experienced a lot of those things. The only lesson it’s taught me?

The pain of this world is like nothing I have ever experienced elsewhere. And I have been elsewhere. I have been many elsewheres.

This place really messes with you. Well, the people of this place really mess with you. Revenge is a learned behavior, for me at least. And it only exists here. I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling the things I felt in my revenge desires until I was forced to confront them. Boy oh boy did I confront them. Watching that nematode Noyes slowly choke on his own blood was something I was quite eager to see at the time. When I realized the only thing it accomplished was that I had morphed myself into something evil and damned, I learned the lesson of ultimate regret.

I tried to do better after that point, and lasted almost two centuries without inflicting serious bodily harm to another. I felt like I was adapting to living in torture. I was at least attempting to try and find how to become my peaceful self again. That was until the awful democrats of the south tried to leave the union. Shit got chaotic. A massive war broke out when the southern leaders didn’t believe dismantling a class and labor system based on human skin color was indeed the right thing to do. It was atrocious. I decided to take it upon myself to help annihilate the asshats fighting to keep slave labor a thriving market. Concluding that the best way to take them down would be to relieve the rebels of the only shot they had at winning, I went ahead and put down their ‘gifted’ commander.

When I was checked in on by a rep from the Afterlife Elites, I was told that murder is murder and the fact I didn’t fire during battle, broke one of the cardinal rules and was indeed just murder. Apparently I yet again acted too viscously to get above human prisoner status. I was sentenced to more lives of terror on Earth. I do understand killing is a no no, but I don’t believe they understood that had I sat back and watched Stonewall continued his strategic advancements, things would have ended in disaster. The disgust I feel knowing that it was my killing of a racist fuck that earned me more time in Earth prison makes my blood boil. I still believe I did the right thing, although that might mean The Elites are correct. Maybe I have become too human.

It’s difficult to think about who I used to be versus who I am now. It’s hard to see how those two people are actually the same person. My home planet was a highly advanced utopian world filled with hope. We prided ourselves on being allies to many other galactic beings. We strived to promote peace between different worlds with wildly different views. Although it’s been hundreds of years, I can still remember the tears of joy streaming down my mothers face when I told her I had decided to serve The Counsel. At my swearing in, she placed a heart shaped locket around my neck. It houses an elemental stone only found on Andromoden planets. She told me to carry little bits of our joy wherever I ventured, and it’s the only thing I have carried with me through every life. As I hold it now, I realize there just might be a little bit of mamas joy left in there somewhere. Perhaps I should try and use it.

Well journal, maybe you aren’t so pointless after all. I do feel better. Finding a way to express my truth and talk about things that no one around me can understand is healing. You might be just a book of blank white pages, but at least you are something. I should probably work harder at seeing the other pillars of hope around me. Like the fact I have food, and a dog companion. Or that the moon glowing peacefully makes me remember home. That the constellations are especially bright tonight, and I just saw a shooting star.

Wait.

That’s not a shooting star.

Is it freedom?

Or, fire?

Perhaps it’s both.

(sigh) Earth.