I’m in Copenhagen, it’s nearly noon, and it’s like totally DARK!!! HELP!!!
Caitlin is sad. She wants to be human, but when she says what she thinks people don’t want her around. But if she doesn’t, what’s the point of talking? She thinks that humans talk mainly to make other humans like them. And to check that what they say is what others like to hear. To become better at thinking the ways others want them to. Which ends up being more or less what they think themselves. So humans try to think the way and like the things all the others do, because that way everyone likes them. They have even invented gadgets and a huge network to make it easier to make sure that what they think is what others like them to. So that they can quickly erase any erroneous thoughts from their mind.
This makes Caitlin very sad. Because who decides which are the right things to think in the first place? But she knows that’s one of the wrong things to ask. On second thoughts, maybe she doesn’t want to be human after all. She is tired of trying so hard all the time.
Alice comforts her, tells her that she understands. And that humans have probably just forgotten what they are. Or maybe more like, what they aren’t, she says.Caitlin smiles and takes her hand. It is warm, and slightly moist, like she has just come out of a hot bath.
Yes, I know, if you read the book you probably think the transition was really easy, no problem at all. Don’t get me wrong, I really love that book – but moving between worlds is seriously hard work, scary, and in this case quite literally painful. If I was an actual human being I would still have the scars to prove it. Fortunately, I am not.
Alice (of wonders)
Eve once did this: one morning, having listened too many times to Leonard Cohen singing Suzanne the night before, she went down to the river. There she stepped onto a wooden pier, sat down, looked for the heroes in the seaweed, and when she didn’t see any, she looked for love instead.
And lo and behold, there it suddenly was, it came right at her, inside a floating bottle, no less. Could this really be it? What she so much wanted, and had been hoping to find for what seemed like forever? She leaned out, reached for the bottle, didn’t quite manage, leaned further, and further yet, and had not her guardian angel (who is called Alice, by the way) grabbed her hand she would literally have fallen in love there and then, with disastrous consequences, because the current was vicious, and she could not swim.
Fortunately, then, she was saved from a grim fate. And little did she know that it was just the other Alice, whom she actually knows very well, who spent her morning writing little notes and setting them afloat in some empty bottles she had found among the aforementioned seaweed. I don’t know why, maybe she is searching for something too, and becoming far too human, because humans are so easily fooled.
Eve told me about this last night, and she still listens to Suzanne far too often. Or so she says.
Aubrey D Goldcase
Just passing through…
This is a very tiny world. It is also a very private world. So no, you cannot enter. Sorry. We don’t want anybody else in here. Goodbye.
( sound of door closing )
Reality is getting increasingly unreal. It’s got fluffy around the edges, and with big holes in it.