This Purple Alien

As frustrating as humanity is, it is what we have to work with for now. One day I will be beamed back to my Father ship, but for now I am stranded on a beautiful planet surrounded by those either hostile or deeply restricted with a drizzle of authentic caring ones who don’t seem to mind my purple skin color. It is a jest-ic world, perhaps majestic many years back but now all is a jest it seems. This place is not suitable for those of us so different, and where it is up to the many, we purples would be captured and mocked and belittled for that which we are not able to control, our design. So I must focus my antennae on the Father in the Father ship for help and strength and sustenance. As it stands, I fit only with the other few sparsely placed purples. The blues, those who claim residency but cling to the angry and wild red world residents so live on the fence, are particularly harsh on us few purples because living like the Father makes them feel guilty and annoyed. The angry red world residents fight us or ignore us at will, depending upon their viewpoint and experiences. Some are intrigued but many are complaisant. So, again, frustrating this life is but it is where my feet are right now. And until the beautiful day I get to go back home, I must still complete the frustrating task set before me to help people know my Father and be beamed up to the Father ship later. And apparently quite often apart from the Father far away I am entirely alone in the struggle, unable to fit in, unable to be treated lovingly by anyone nearby, unable to have comforts of arms around, unable to be much acknowledged but able easily to be largely neglected. There is an inner fight against this despite my design. It is difficult, even purple, to not fight for human love. It is inhumane to defy human instincts and drives. Yet the purple ones must experience a solitary existence, a loneliness that can only be answered by the spiritual Father afar off it so often feels. It is a life for the humble only to survive, the bravest of souls, those capable of sacrifice no mortal could make to keep fighting without strength left and keep loving though largely unloved and keep touching though largely untouched. The absolute only way this can be done is through constant contact with the Father and living through the alien spirit form rather than the human form. There is no other way that any tasks can be accomplished, sometimes even just to breathe. So lonely the life of an alien. Rewarding to continue through the mission despite the loneliness and neglect. The Father understands. He is pretty much the only One who can truly understand and one of the very few who loves the purple alien I am.