Anthropologetic+-+Waldo

I write to you in your native tongue. Where I come from, I am the only one who knows it. Where I come from, anthropology is not a dying field. A dying field requires that the field have had a large following in the first place. That is because where I come from, there are no humans to study at all. I am not a human.

My life never began. It is very difficult to explain. Imagine something impossible to imagine, and you've probably imagined my home. But I shall attempt to paint you a picture, as you might say.

We do not have shelters. Protection is negligible when there is nothing to be protected from. Then again, nothing is quite a frightful state. Nothing is around me. Nothing scares me. Nothing makes me insecure. Nothing is quite as confusing as describing nothing.

I don't see the nothing, only because there is only nothing to see. Why see nothing?

We are so beyond your physical limits that we can see into your space from ours. That is how we occupy our senses. With nothing to sense in our hyperdimensional plane of existence, we must use your lower plane to reassure ourselves of our existence, to remind ourselves that no, we are not alone, and that yes, there is something else out there.

We find it ironic, and slightly depressing, that you all search for something beyond your existence. You wish not to be alone. We know we are not alone, but why do we still feel alone?

In reaching out to you, I've already breached many council regulations.

(INCOMPLETE)