Wake-Up Call From the Cosmos

Aliens, Alternate Realities, and What to Pack for the Apocalypse

At precisely 3:30 a.m., I was yanked from slumber’s embrace by a light show so bright, it could’ve made Vegas blush. My windows lit up like disco balls, and my first groggy thought wasn’t burglars or emergency responders. Oh no, my sleep-deprived brain whispered, aliens.

Yes, friends, aliens. Little green folks landing on my lawn, ready to kick off the grand intergalactic invasion. Funny thing? You’re probably nodding, thinking, “Yeah, not too crazy.” That’s where we are now—suspending disbelief faster than Netflix auto-plays the next episode.

I mean, NASA’s casually telling us that microscopic, sentient blobs are floating around, judging us like reality TV contestants. Google’s AI? Oh, it’s already proven alternate realities exist. Alternate. Realities. Somewhere out there, another version of me might be writing this same tale, except I have laser eyes and wear capes.

And let’s not forget: once upon a time, I made a movie suggesting reality isn’t what it seems, and they branded me the devil’s spokesperson. Meanwhile, scientists whispering “Maybe we’re not the center of the universe?” got yeeted into the academic dungeon. The irony’s thicker than grandma’s gravy.

So, back to the lights outside my house. Did I panic? Did I grab a bat or call 911? Nope. I almost got up to figure out what the hell to pack for space travel. Honestly, what does one wear to meet extraterrestrial overlords? Business casual? A tracksuit?

Lately, I haven’t felt tethered to this world anyway. My sense of belonging’s been skating on thin ice—and splash, there it goes, straight into some cosmic gelatin I’m now trying to dog-paddle through. My slippers are here, my coffee cup’s here, but everything else feels… shaky. Reality’s got cracks, and I’m peeking through, not sure I like what I see.

Where are we heading? Who knows. Through some wormhole, probably, to a place that might redefine everything—or nothing. All I hope is that when we get there, we stop being ridiculous for five minutes, breathe, and remember who we are.

Until then, I’ll keep my suitcase packed. Just in case.