I'm a researcher, information gets to me. So, How does it feel to know that you were stuck on Earth for years and you didn't know that you were stuck?
How does it feel knowing you aren't, in fact, human after all? I knew I wasn't human at least, I was just acting. But you? You didn’t. How does that feel?
I’ve spent a while thinking over this ask, but it’s hard considering I can’t tell if you’re looking for Sympathy or Superiority.
I didn’t choose to come here, true. I hadn’t known my- …well. I hadn’t known my species. I’m still not quite right on the head, in all honesty. So, I’m going to change the question, or else ask you the same.
How would you feel to see your friends in fear of what you could be? To me, torturous. There’s no way to ease that pain when even you don’t know what you could be. There’s no way to know, without facing what’s unremembered.
What would you do if your family, whatever the history, was nothing more than figments? A cold hand still holds my hearts for the grief of a face that cannot be photographed. I can’t see things now without reminder of what I haven’t really lost.
Who are you, when given two lives alien of one another? How do you navigate the reveries when each set feels as real? I am Gallifreyan, yes, but I can still remember the human that was- is- has been? Me. It’s so hard to feel sure when your identity is torn asunder. I feel Human. Does knowing what you are change what you thought of experiencing? I feel Gallifreyan. Am I still who I am? Am I who people saw before, or a person past? How is anyone to know me when I can’t tell my own start-
…
Sorry. Off track. To answer, as best as I can see to it: It’s okay. Being put on Earth was not a problem- on the contrary, I wouldn’t have found Angy, or anyone else, without my being here. For that I am grateful.
Even as I can’t tell myself from my pieces.
