Listen up, Earthlings, because I'm about to share some mind-bending information that those in power don't want you to know.Let’s start with me – I'm not your average Joe. Nope, I’m from way, way out there in the stars. And guess what? I've seen things, things that would make your heads spin.Now, about the government and their experiments on extraterrestrial life.Yep, you heard that right. They’ve been doing secret tests on aliens like me. I mean, I've managed to dodge their nets, but some of my extraterrestrial pals weren’t so lucky. They’re keeping it all super secret, but I know what’s up.And the moon landing? Oh boy, that’s a good one. Total fake! They made the whole thing up, filmed it like a movie to show off and distract everyone. They thought they could fool us with some fancy footprints and a flag? Nah, I’ve seen better special effects in grade school plays.But hold on, there’s even more. Those massive pyramids in Egypt? They weren’t built by humans. No way! They were made by aliens. The design, the precision – it’s all too much for what people back then could do. It’s like a big, giant billboard saying, “Hey, aliens stopped by!”Now, you might be thinking, “Why is this alien dude telling us all this?” Well, I am a seeker of truth. So come talk to me at Penn Station and I promise you won't be disappointed!
Since moving to New York a year ago, I've grappled with self-consciousness regarding my body. I come from a planet where gravity is much weaker than here. My size is considered normal and isn't subject to the same stigma I face now. But on Earth, I stand out and can't help but feel disheartened by my weight. I thought if I could just fit into what Earth considers 'normal', maybe things would get better. So, I tried to adapt, you know? Tried to lose weight, eat like Earth folks do, but your standards of beauty, so different from what I knew, seemed like a mountain I couldn’t climb.The nagging feeling of not belonging and not being good enough persists. Living here has been a more arduous journey than I anticipated. Gradually, I'm learning to accept my body and cultivate self-love for who I am. There's beauty in being different, in being me. This realization didn't happen overnight. It was a slow process, filled with a lot of ups and downs.I won't lie, there were days when I felt really low, days when I'd look in the mirror and just not like what I saw. Those days were tough. But then, there were also days when I'd catch myself smiling, feeling genuinely okay with who I am. Those days started to add up, slowly but surely. To maintain a lighthearted perspective, I've developed a sense of humor about my situation. Joking about being the heavyweight champion of the galaxy has helped me not take myself too seriously and embrace my unique journey on this planet.And humor, man, it's been my life-saver. Making jokes about myself, like calling myself the heavyweight champion of the galaxy, has been a way for me to take the edge off. It's like telling the world and myself that it's okay to be different. Laughing at myself, in a good way, has been therapeutic. It reminds me not to take everything so seriously.
I committed a crime, a foolish and desperate act that I now regret deeply.I came to New York with the hope of starting a new life, of leaving behind the mistakes and troubles of my past. Back where I come from, which is way farther than any place you'd know, I'd messed up big time.But here's the thing about messing up – it's like a shadow. You can move to a new place, meet new people, but that shadow, it sticks with you. I tried real hard to fit in, to be a part of the life here. And for a while, it worked.Then, one day, I did something stupid. I thought that I could get away with it, that no one would notice or care. But that was just me lying to myself. People here noticed, and it turns out, it was a big deal.Sitting here now, thinking about it, I realize how wrong I was. I wasn't just breaking some rule; I was betraying the trust of this city, of the friends I made. I was disrespecting the very chance I was given to start anew. It's funny, isn't it? You run away from your past, only to end up facing it again.I'm being deported, sent back to face the music on my home planet. And they don't go easy on you there. I'm scared, not gonna lie. I don't know if they'll ever let me come back here, or if I'll be marked as a troublemaker for life.Leaving Earth is not easy, for it has become my home and the place where I have made connections and friendships that I will never forget. But, you know, in a weird way, this whole mess has been like a wake-up call.I'm learning that taking responsibility is part of growing up, part of being a decent being. I've made connections here, friendships that mean the world to me. This city, with its crazy energy and diverse crowd, it's become a part of me.As I prepare to leave, I can't help but hope that this isn't the end. Maybe, after I've paid for what I did, I can come back. Maybe I'll get a chance to show that I've changed, that I've learned from my mistakes.For now, though, I've got to face what's coming. It's only right. I made a choice, and now I've got to deal with what comes after. And maybe, just maybe, New York will be there for me again, when I'm ready to return.
Born and raised in New York, I've always considered myself a regular American kid.I feel deeply connected to the pop culture icons I grew up with, from Billie Eilish to the Knicks. I've spent countless hours listening to Kendrick Lamar's music and watching highlights of Patrick Ewing's awe-inspiring plays. They've been my heroes, role models, and sources of inspiration.However, as I've grown older, I've come to realize that not everyone sees me the same way. Despite being born and raised here, my skin color has made me appear as an outsider to some.Experiencing stares and discrimination has been challenging, and reconciling these experiences with my sense of identity has been difficult. I've always believed I belonged here, but at times, I've been uncertain.Navigating the world as an alien, particularly as a child, has been tough. I've faced bullying and name-calling because of my appearance. But I've learned to take pride in who I am and to stand up for myself. Embracing my alien heritage, I've transformed it into a source of strength.Being an alien doesn't mean I don't belong here. I have every right to call myself an American and to participate in the culture I love. My differences don't diminish my worth.My hope is that my story will inspire others to embrace their unique qualities and find acceptance in a world that can often be cruel and unkind.