The aliens were everywhere. They had been “immigrants” or “ex-pats”. They thought they had psychological issues and went to see the psychiatrist (who was in the old days called an alienist.)

They weren’t crazy. They weren’t normal though, and that was the point. Normal people were miserable. They complained more than they thanked. They weren’t happy with what they had, no matter what it was, even if it was what they had wanted. They had been programmed to minimize their success. Only complaining was allowed.

Saying things like “I’m good. I’m really blessed. I love my work and my family. I have a great life.” was met with suspicion if not outright incredulity.

So the aliens came, in the form of gods or rock stars or TV talking heads or even self-help gurus. They came to teach a better way but the people were so used to being sick and tired and anxious that they just couldn’t believe they didn’t have to be. They were so used to being half that being whole wasn’t normal to them. Especially when they were told that they didn’t have to do anything – not take a pill or eat a root or even exercise. They just had to accept the new Script that they were healthy. “Fake it till you make it” had become fake it in order to make it. They had to reprogram themselves, to learn that they were not broken, not damaged, not addicted.

Society told him otherwise, because sickness is marketable. Dis-ease has a dollar sign. The well don’t need a doctor after all.

So the aliens came, not to invade but to immunize, to inject a vaccine against melancholy and mediocrity. But they had to be sly about it, because the natives had been programmed to kill all aliens, all “others”, all those who were different or strange, because that was how the disease replicated.

(written mid July 2019)