Share your previous alien life story..., page 1

Hello, bputman. Thank you for opening this door for us. While some might call our condition delusional or the product of an overactive imagination, we cannot deny the feeling itself that we are not originally of this Earth.

I have been posting and following for quite some time on ATS, but this is one aspect of myself I have never openly disclosed. It is the sort of thing that gets one branded a kook, and the majority of people who think along these lines do admittedly come off as such. But now that you have made a space for this discussion, it seems as good a time as any.

Now don't get me wrong: I was born into a human body, raised in a human family and grew up fully convinced of my temporary condition of humanity. I do not claim otherwise. There are no spaceships in the immediate memory of this particular human brain.

However, I never fit in very well. I was variously labeled gifted, disturbed, sensitive and strange. The few friendships I kept tended to be of a very strong and deep variety and with people to whom I felt a true kinship, but even with them I have always felt an enduring and unassailable loneliness which I could not explain.

None of things that typically amuse humans are capable of distracting me more than momentarily from the truth of my condition. Though I possess natural talents of an intellectual and creative nature, I have no drive to pursue the goals common to most of the human race. I eschewed academia ferociously, leaving school at my earliest opportunity and never looking back.

The pursuit of wealth, property, power and influence nauseate me. I have no desire to better myself in my worldly standing. The idea of marrying, reproducing, working like a dog until retirement and dying in a hospital bed vainly clutching at the ephemeral accessories of a forfeit life seem to me a hellish nightmare. I respectfully leave the pursuit of Earthly goals to those whose souls are native to this world. Those who want the Earth may have it. I live almost like a monk, though I am entirely apathetic toward religion and theology, caring too little even to brand myself an agnostic.

My life was a futile doldrums, empty of meaning, until I began having a series of otherworldly vivid dreams when I was thirteen. These dreams continued until my nineteenth birthday. Over the course of twenty or so separate episodes, I was introduced in staggering detail to an alien society quite unlike the human race. The dreams elucidated every element of that people, from their biology and anatomy to their million-year history, their life-cycle, their technology, the structure of their society, their view of the universe and their future in it. Through these dreams I became so intimately familiar with this people that humans began to seem like aliens. When I would look in the mirror, I would be horrified to see a fleshy, sallow monkey face instead of their great unblinking cat eyes and armored carapace.

I have finally come to understand that my human face is not my true face. The dreams came to me not as delusion or fantasy or escapism, but because at the core of my being I am one of them. The sequence of my few hundred human lifetimes has been the fantasy. I came to Earth to live as a human for a while, but quickly succumbed to the trap of gravity and forgetfulness. The lifetimes I have spent here, have been part of a process of remembering myself, piecing myself back together and ultimately devising an escape route. I hope to not be born into another human life. If I have my way, this will be my last.

Surely this will sound insane to some, and pathetic to others. Perhaps in some sense it is lunacy and escapism, but in another sense just as real it is true. There is room for ambiguity there. Thank you, bputman, for granting us this venue.