It’s no coincidence that we call people from other countries “aliens”.  There’s always that funny feeling when you visit somewhere new and you realise there are all these millions of people living full, real lives there, and that this place is the centre of their universe, and then you multiply that for all the different places in the world where all of these parallel lives are being lived, and then you stop, because you can’t feel your limbs anymore and you’re doing that darting thing with your eyes like maybe you’ve just caught a glimpse of the meaning of life and your brain is collapsing in on itself with the enormity of it all.

I like being part of an alien race for a while.  There’s something quite liberating about not understanding much of what’s being said around you (or about you).  Probably that’s called ignorance.  But it is blissful.  Most of the time.  Sometimes it’s downright awkward. …