Aliens Might As Well Pull Up

I don’t think I’m scared of aliens.

I think I’m scared of everyone suddenly acting like aliens are a normal part of the conversation.

That’s the part messing with me.

Because one day we were arguing about gas prices, dating apps, groceries, and why every subscription service thinks it deserves $14.99 a month.

Then suddenly people started speaking very calmly about disclosure, hybrids, secret programs, artificial structures on the moon, and open contact like they were discussing a new Costco opening.

And I’m sorry...

When did we all agree to be casual about this shit?

I must have missed the meeting.

Because I still need a minute when my phone updates without permission. Now I’m supposed to emotionally prepare for beings from elsewhere?

The human beings from here already require too much paperwork.

That’s the real problem.

It’s not the aliens.

It’s the fact that the world keeps handing us bigger and bigger concepts with no emotional instruction manual.

War.

AI.

Surveillance.

Climate.

The economy.

Dating.

The moon possibly having a suspicious little situation going on.

And then we’re expected to wake up, drink water, answer emails, and pretend our nervous system isn’t standing in the corner holding a vape.

So no, I’m not saying I believe everything.

I’m also not saying I don’t.

I’m saying the timing is rude as hell.

If aliens are real, fine.

Welcome.

I hope they’re peaceful, emotionally mature, and better at communication than most men I’ve met.

But if they are planning to reveal themselves, I would appreciate a soft launch.

Maybe a newsletter.

Maybe a polite little heads-up.

Something simple like...

“Dear humans,

We will be arriving soon.

Please remain calm.

Do not make this weird.”

Because you already know we’re going to make it weird.

Somebody will try to flirt.

Somebody will start a podcast.

Somebody will sell a course.

Somebody will claim they dated one in 2017 and “never got closure.”

And TikTok will have a filter by noon.

Maybe that’s why I keep thinking about land.

Trees.

Water.

Quiet.

Not because I think the woods will save me from aliens.

But because everything is getting so loud, even the sky has started sounding suspicious.

And I am tired.

Not scared.

Just tired in a way that makes peace feel less like something nice to have...

and more like a damn evacuation plan.

I’ll be in my cabin in the woods, fully stocked, watching it all go down from a safe distance.