Anxiety
Sometimes, I find myself gazing at the twinkling skyline, and I can't help but feel a deep sense of anxiety creeping over me. It's not just about the rent, which is a universal worry here, or the fact that my neighbors still think I'm just another eccentric foreigner with an unplaceable accent. It's something much heavier, much more global.
Back on my home planet, we had our share of conflicts, but nothing like the wars I see unfolding on Earth. It's overwhelming, you know? Every time I switch on the TV or scroll through my phone, there's a new headline screaming about some conflict or another. Sometimes, I wonder if Earthlings are addicted to turmoil, or maybe it's just an inevitable part of their nature.
The constant stream of news about wars and conflicts makes me feel helpless. I wonder what I, a lone alien in a vast city, can do about it. I've seen images that haunt me – of children caught in the crossfire, of ancient cities reduced to rubble. It pains me to think that such beauty and history are being destroyed.
Back home, we had a saying, "To witness suffering is to bear a responsibility to alleviate it." I try to live by that here, but it often feels like trying to hold back an ocean with a broom. I volunteer at shelters, I attend rallies, I even try to educate my fellow New Yorkers about the importance of peace and understanding. But the scale of it all, it's just... daunting.
Sometimes, I think about packing up and leaving, heading back to the stars. But then I remember the faces of the people I've met here, the genuine kindness and resilience of Earthlings. It gives me hope, a stubborn, persistent hope that maybe, just maybe, things can get better. Maybe it's naïve, but it's what keeps me going.