Why Alienman?

I clammed up. There, you see me, my neck craned over my cell phone, oblivious to what’s happening around me. That’s me trying to be inconspicuous. I am an anachronism, and people don’t like to be reminded of that fact. The group is polite enough, not to ridicule me. I have had worse. I don’t drink, and I am bloody ashamed of the fact that I am so bloody uncool.

The atmosphere is stifling. I get out. Why the hell do I try these things, when I bloody know that it’s going to end up being a disaster? Out from the scorching blaze of the neon lights, into the dank interiors of the washroom, I look myself up in the mirror. I am disappointed. I have long since realized that my face and my brain had never lived up to their potential. Confidence alone cannot take me through the night.

This is always the time when I feel that something bad must happen to the world, such that I am able to save it in the nick of time. In such parallel universes, I am a vigilante or the Prime Minister of the country or maybe the astronaut who has some really badass adventures in space. Because out in the real world, I am not even a protagonist of a single conversation, I am ALWAYS a sidekick. That’s why I fantasize being a superhero; I have done so since childhood.

Now that my blog is inching towards its double century, I feel that it’s my duty to tell you, faithful readers, why this blog is called Alienman. I am an alien trapped in a man’s body – that being true of even Superman, Batman or Spiderman. Spiderman was well-loved, Peter Parker was not. Clark Kent was a bumbling reporter, a sidekick. They were alien in the sense, that they were different. In the real world, I am a disappointment (or so I feel), and because I realize that I am a disappointment, I behave differently; I end up being unique. I don’t have any superpowers, all I can afford to do is to write, to fantasize about the challenging catastrophes I avert, damsels in distress that I save…

That’s the reason why, this blog is all about ‘Alienman’. ‘Alienman’ is that survival mechanism which makes me feel that I am important, that I am relevant. And you, readers, are my superpowers. Your kind words boost my ego; provide me with the ‘strokes’ that are so needed to live a healthy life.

I believe that these last few posts have been about rediscovering myself, to gain back some of that brash confidence I originally felt when I started this blog. I believe, for too long I have wallowed in self-induced melancholy.

It’s time to don my red tights over my blue pants. It’s time to let the cape flutter in the wind. The mask over my freckled face is not to hide my identity, but to show the world that I am more that a human being, I am a symbol. A symbol of hope, I am a superhero of my own life, and nobody can take that away from me.

During daytime, I am a regular, nobody go-getter. By night, I am Alienman…