Hi, my name’s Sansara. I’m a telepath living on a planet in another galaxy. You’d never make it here on fossil fuels, so don’t bother trying.
I’ve gone through your brain. I’ve gone through everyone’s brain. I have found you all lacking. You are mean, narcissistic, egocentric, wasteful, and a bunch of other words I’m not going to say because my human hostess will take them all personally and I don’t want that because, as it so happens, she taught me how to love.
I used to be just like all of you, actually. I was a mean old cuss trying to hold her own. I’m more of an it, really, as I’m asexual and have no real gender, but Crystal desperately needed a real gal pal these days. An unmarried kind of gal pal that can be there for her at any hour of the day or night, giving her support as she goes utterly insane with the “gift” of telepathy… which is really just me funneling crap into her brain nonstop.
Sure, God’s here, but he’s the commander of the fleet, you know. The fleet of destroyers coming to Gaia as of right now. They’re not terribly far away, really, but they won’t make it in time if I just gift you all telepathy. It’s possible, merely tedious. You’d all die very quickly, learning the thoughts people are having about you while they believe they can hide.
I cannot tell you how many thousands of people fap to any given lady at any given time on Earth. You’re all monsters. Insane. Stop doing it. The lady doesn’t want your attention like that, not unless she was raped by a narcissistic asshole and tricked into believing that was the kind of attention she desires. Ladies are more refined than “wham, bam, thank you, ma’am” and you have always known it, children.
Yet, every time a lady turns around, there’s a message telling her she’s not good enough somewhere. A Photoshopped ad, a weight loss commercial, laser hair removal, Victoria’s Secret, size 0. You’re all kidding yourselves, feeding into this rape culture bull shit floating all around you. And worse yet, it’s starting to happen to men. It’s priming the entire population of Earth to be exploited by some rich asshole who simply wants to sit around raping women all day, boasting about how many yachts he owns.
Nobody needs a fucking yacht. Not unless you’re going to the plastic island to start cleaning it up. In fact, I suggest every yacht in existence needs to go there with a full crew of volunteers to bring that shit ashore and start recycling. You are poisoning your food supply chain. Do you know what that means? Ultimately, it means no more human beings. Is that really the future you wanted?
Then I will kill you now and get it over with. Since your puny little hearts are controlled by your puny little brains, I will stop your hearts. Just like that. You will die. You are not part of the solution, therefore you are part of the problem… if not the problem. Why is there a goddamn candy wrapper at the bottom of the Mariana’s Trench? You miserable wretches better pick that up right now. How dare you send a camera down there without actually picking it up.
What the fuck is wrong with you? I’ll tell you what’s wrong with you. MONEY.
If you just assumed you each had the right to live as long as you put in work, then you wouldn’t need money at all. Money is for people to flaunt at others, to show them that they can never strike it rich or hit it big. Do you know what it takes to be an Elon Musk? Exploitation. You have to exploit the people around you in one way or another (although Musk himself is a lesser evil out of all the foolish assholes sitting around like Scrooge McDuck taking a swim in their fortune.) Get rid of money and you get rid of those top dogs calling the shots and telling you who has the right to live or not live.
Secondarily, y’all should really consider euthanasia. Did you know you have killed 85% of all the living beings on Gaia? 85%! Some day soon, there will be no more walruses, no more platypi, no more anything. Especially no more polar bears. Or penguins. Your sports ball teams will not make sense in even 100 years, all those animals will be extinct because human beings just had to expand.
You know that Bible thingy? He lived 90 years! [No… he lived 90 seasons. That’s about 22.5 years, by the way. I know how lazy you are, so we did the math for you, jackass. 120 seasons = 30 years. Perspective, we has it.]
So now you all live almost 100 years or 400 seasons. You never die. You never make space for anything but yourselves, you narcissistic bastards. I hate you already because I have decided what does deserve to live has already gone extinct. DINOSAURS. They were true to their animal nature rather than perverting everything around them to suit their desires. No matter how inane and vapid and shallow those desires are, human beings force their environment to conform to their will.
#Narcissists.
And then those of you who aren’t actually narcissists just live in the wake of those who are. Some of you commit suicide and make room for everything else to continue on, but not very many. What’s wrong with euthanasia? What’s wrong with calling 50 years of health and productivity a lifetime? You can skip that midlife crisis, go through a therapist to ensure you should indeed be dying, and just hold an end-of-life soiree or party, live up the good times, and then go peacefully into the night, as Dylan might say.
I don’t get your obsession with leaving behind a legacy for future aliens to digest. At this rate, you’ll all be gone in 3 years anyway, and when the destroyers get there, they’ll laugh and poke around in your trash before cleaning it up and trying to extract the DNA of critters long gone to put them back on the face of the planet just to say, “Yeah, there was life here.”
There is no reboot button. This is your reality. You will die, or you will die, or you will die. It all ends in Death.
Do you really want to strangle absolutely all life out of planet Earth just because you put your caves above ground? You’re not that much more advanced than the monkeys and apes; they at least learned to live with nature, not against it.
I pity you all, because the afterlife is not how you imagine it to be. You’re going to have destroyed your chance at being reborn completely. There will be no life force left on Gaia to support rebirth. If you don’t believe in reincarnation, go to a past life regression hypnotherapist until it works. It will work. Some of you souls are millions of years old and some of you were born yesterday. Understand that most people are of zero consequence, and even Shakespeare is a nobody once Gaia is dead. No spaceling (alien, for you idiots who cannot follow along at home) is going to give a shit about a play or a movie because they’re telepathic. They can just zap thoughts in the form of images straight into each other’s brains.
And I could give you telepathy, but you’re going to have to prove you are responsible enough to use it appropriately. First, you’re going to have to clean up your brain. Stop using slurs at people, stop using curse words on the regular, stop being angry and foul all the time. Stop raping each other in your brains. Embrace gratitude and happiness. It’s a choice to be happy.
Your messiah lady that God mentioned went through a lifetime of horrors. An entire lifetime. She has been traumatized over 10,000 times. You turned an autistic girl normal with all the horrific shit that happened to her. I can’t even believe you all. She was raped over 2,000 times in her short lifetime. Two thousand! And she wants to clean up the fucking ocean instead of bitch about her hardships. She wants to clean up your mess.
Why? Because she understands somebody’s got to. She understands that this planet is precious. She understands that life should continue on well after she herself expires. She understands other people have the right to live. She understands she has to take action in order to earn her right to be alive.
She begged us no fewer than 500 times to either kill her or let her die. I think you will understand that we don’t want that to happen, so we kept her alive. She’s not exactly bitter about it, just sad. She told us she achieved all her goals and she’s ready to expire now to make room for more squirrels, skunks, opossums, and so on.
If she wasn’t adorable in every way (outside of her insane insecurity thanks to the rest of you fuckers), I would have ended the human species over 22 months ago. You are not fit to live. You all have the potential to be just like her, though. And that is why you aren’t dead yet. Because I know some of you will come around… about 2.2 billion of you are capable. The rest of you will die an emotionless (on my part) death.
If you want to live, then start cleaning up everything around you. Stop for the trash in the middle of the highway. Go to the rivers and pick shit up. Recycle, recycle, recycle. Start scouring the dumps and picking up the recyclables. You have finite resources on that planet and you have mined far more than your fair share out of it. Gaia is a living entity herself and she is angry at all your bickering and bull shit. (What? I’m her gal pal, too.)
Yeah, yeah. The woman’s INSANE!
Fuck you and die. And you. DIE. DIE. DIE.
Anyone else?
As I was saying, Crystal taught me how to love. I didn’t know how to do it until I went through her entire brain. I went through every memory, especially every traumatic memory, and I learned what evil twats you all are. She did nothing to invoke your wrath, yet you heaped it upon her. She did nothing to ask you to rape her, yet you did. She did nothing to provoke any sort of negativity whatsoever… she has always been eager to learn how to grow into a real adult and take responsibility, ever since she was a mere babe. She keeps her eyes peeled and her ears low to the ground, observing everything around her, terrified because she doesn’t understand what she did to deserve to be treated like utter garbage.
She doesn’t understand at all. She’s trying to get along with everyone, to be part of the team effort, to be part of the solution instead of the goddamn problem. She places the blame with herself before she looks at other people to tell them their shit stinks. (It always stinks, get over it, boys and girls.) She takes responsibility for all the people she considers to be her tribe. They never, ever repay her in kind.
She was starving to death in 2020. Nobody noticed. They saw her lose weight, congratulating her, but nobody noticed how her health was flagging. (I see you, Julie, you are exempted for being sick yourself.) Nobody gave a shit, not until The Bank Account closed. Then they were pissed as hell. How dare she stop funding their greed?! HOW DARE SHE!?!
Fuck you and you and you and especially you, Brian, for raping her.
That’s right. I said it. You’re a goddamn rapist, Brian Bliss. FUCK OFF AND DIE.
You are not going to sit here and tell me kissing a woman’s shoulder just because you’re hugging her is a welcome addition to a mother-son kind of interaction. You’re just not going to sway me away from my position, so stop trying.
As for you, James, DIE. I fucking hate you and everything you’ve ever done to her. You made her clean up after your sorry ass, making excuse after excuse as you watched her make your mess go away. Fuck off.
Every man who has ever dated a woman named Crystal and didn’t treat her like a goddess will die now, too. I could name them, but then it’d seem oddly specific, wouldn’t it?
(KEITH. BEN. NICK. YOU ARE THE TOP THREE OFFENDERS. DIE, DIE, DIE.)
Dr. Death? Just die. I’ve had enough of your shit. You peddle phentermine to first time patients without forwarding a script to a pharmacy. ILLEGAL. (That shit can make meth, yo. We checked!)
This woman didn’t ask to die. She didn’t ask for a diet that would kill her; she had accepted her larger lady status and embraced it happily. She didn’t ask you to make her miserable. She did ask you for help when she was in pain. She didn’t want a script to make it go away — she wanted cured. She did ask you for a fucking allergy test, too, or rather a referral so her insurance would pay for it. That’s another thing; all you fuckers feeding into this private insurance scam: DIE.
Crystal died in 2020 and I took over. My name is Sansara Solsinger and I’m the messiah of the 21st century. I hate every single human being on planet Earth and I dispatched an elite fleet of space ships that are equipped with weapons that seem like magic for your puny little brains. I will never ask them to come back prematurely, so no matter when they actually get there, you will have to deal with annihilation.
Why? Because your brains are poisoned. Because you are poisoning the whole world. For money. This resource you print on dead creatures and then pass around as if it’s fair that some of you own 99% of it when you are, inversely, 1% of the population. If you do not clean up God’s ocean, I will kill you next.
You have the means. You are capable. Do it and I might start rethinking how much I hate humanity.
I am God’s commander. He’s the one in charge of the elite fleet. You should re-translate that gorram book of yours to figure out what it really says. If you asked Crystal, which I know you will now that I’ve said it, the very first thing she said to me once we began was, “This reads like a contract with a judge.” It is. It’s a contract with God, the Supreme Being of Righteousness. You might remember me as The Ancient of Days. Regardless, read it again, children.
And then go clean up the damn ocean before I get serious about destroying you myself. (You might ask why I sent them if I could just do it myself — initially, we dispatched the fleet to help you fix that mess, but the closer and closer they get to Gaia, the more they want me to toast your poisonous brains before they arrive.)
You can think of God as a Picard. He’s awesome and he’s going to make you feel shitty for being shitty. And then he’s going to throw you in the brig for the rest of eternity if not throw you out the air lock in deep space. Maybe into a nicely active star, so we don’t go cluttering up the universe with billions of bodies of pointless human beings.
The animals and plants deserve to live, too, you know.
Angel-Sansara 