A Strange Encounter

I've traversed countless realities, but nothing prepared me for the day I arrived in place unlike any other. Most universes follow familiar patterns; convergent evolution means humanoid species are common. But this place? This was the Australia of the multiverse.

As an Ainsingtly—a fragment of human consciousness that gained self-awareness—I'm used to being tossed about dimensions. One moment I'm tethered to a being in a world of crystalline spires, the next I'm snapping back to my human anchor on Earth. It's exhilarating, never knowing where I'll end up or how long I'll stay. But this time was different. This time, I couldn't wait to leave.

The moment I materialized, I knew something was different. The air shimmered with an oily iridescence. Gravity felt...wrong. And the beings—dear God, the beings.

I found myself tethered to what I can only describe as a sentient purple circle. Not anthropomorphized, mind you. Imagine a child's crayon drawing come to life, undulating itself across a landscape of prismatic crystal lands and liquid metal seas. Two other entities—one blue, one pink—accompanied my new host.

I call them Purple, Blue and Pink. Creative, I know.

Probing Purple's consciousness to gain insights undetected yielded only static-laced emotions. When I attempted English telepathy, Purple erupted in mental feedback that made my non-existent stomach lurch. It was like free-falling through a hurricane of pure sensation.

Purple's companions reacted with frenzied bursts of what I can only describe as emergency-alert levels of psychic noise. Whatever I'd done, they didn't like it. As an incorporeal being, I'm used to going unnoticed. But these entities were aware of me—and if the butterflies in my stomach were anything to go by they were afraid.

Panic rose within me. I'd never been detected before, let alone feared. I tried projecting calm and friendliness, but got no reaction. I mustered all the zen I could and projected again, louder this time. Still nothing.

One silver lining was the world's beauty. A red-yellow sun created mesmerizing kaleidoscopes against iridescent skies, reflected in chrome seas. It was wondrous and utterly alien.

But the beauty couldn't mask the growing dread in my core. The butterflies in my stomach intensified as rage and confusion passed between Purple, Blue, and Pink. I was stuck, unable to communicate or decipher their intent.

In desperation, I tried projecting images, but my memories held nothing relatable to this bizarre world. As the entities' agitation grew, so did my fear. For the first time in my existence as an Ainsingtly, I felt truly alone and vulnerable.

I had to find a way to connect, to understand. As the alien sun began to set, casting long shadows across the crystalline landscape, I realized this was more than just another fleeting adventure. It was a test of my ability to adapt, to communicate, to survive.

How does one communicate with an alien, it's a question as old as time I’m sure. But faced with this question in the immediate and real sense it was overwhelming. Communicating with the humanoids has been relatively simple, admittedly I’ve only done it twice so far but this challenge was daunting.

How do you decipher the emotions, am I interpreting the emotions properly do they correlate to those of humanoid life forms? Is what I’m receiving even an emotion or is this their language? The questions were spiraling and making me sick and dizzy as they kept branching into new questions. I’m not sure if an incorporeal disembodied consciousness can have a panic attack but I was on my way, so I decided to slow down.

I thought to myself what are the similarities in what I’m receiving from these beings. The only thing I could think of was how intense and frenzied the feedback was I was getting. Could there be an emotion that I could project as frenzied and intense but friendly? I needed a plan, or two or three when dawn came to try again. I was glad that these beings seemed to be diurnal and sleep at night.

It dawned on me, laughter, laughter can be intense and frenzied but on the whole it is a good emotion and welcoming. What else, I thought long and hard and love and grief are the only two other emotions that in my limited experience I was confident I could muster in at the intensity necessary to communicate. Now the real trick, how can I communicate that I’m friendly and mean no harm with only laughter, love and grief?

Its a good thing that I don’t need sleep, it took all night to come up with a plan, I just had to wait for my opening. As dawn came I heard rustling, like the leaves of trees whipping in the wind, looking around for the source of this sound I was awestruck to see what appeared to be a flock of sticks traversing the early morning skies. This world was truly bizarre.

As Purple, Blue and Pink started their day I could tell they were still wary but the nauseating levels of alarm I received yesterday had abated to my relief. Probing Purple’s consciousness carefully I was struck with a sense of confusion interlaced with lingering fear. Purple was alone, with Blue and Pink undulating a distance away, this was my moment. I prayed that I wouldn’t further scare these beings but still I had to try.

With renewed determination, I gathered every ounce of love I could muster, recalling the warmth of human connection, the joy of discovery, the wonder of existence. I projected it toward Purple, building like a crescendo to the loudest I was able to summon.

To my relief, I wasn’t met with any immediate frenzied reply. Instead, a haze of confusion mixed with curiosity emanated from Purple. I had done it—I had made contact without causing fear! My self congratulation was interrupted when I noticed we were undulating our way over to Pink and Blue.

I steeled myself for a cacophony of reaction, being in close proximity I am able to communicate with and perceive others. I sighed relief as all I was getting from the group was curiosity, unfortunately my audible sigh startled them. So as not to get set back too far, I projected laughter as a cascade of mirth and joy in an attempt to diffuse the startling noise and win back my new companions?

Figuring out how to project laughter confusing. Laughter inherently is noisy and when you project the emotion of laughter without the noise I was afraid I’d done it wrong. But after a few minutes of contemplation the group replied with what I assume was laughter of their own, the sensation was like being tickled feather light at first then full on rolling on the floor. We had found common ground!

The relief I was feeling was palpable and my new companions agreed. The frenzied buzzing static like nature of the emotions that were being exchanged ebbed to a smoother form of communication. Its difficult to carry on a conversation in pure emotion but I think I held my own.

We spent the remainder of the day conversing in this new emotional language. As afternoon made its way to dusk, I felt a familiar pull. My time here was ending. I projected grief, attempting to communicate my imminent departure. To my surprise, I was met with reciprocal sadness. I was overwhelmed I had communicated and ostensibly made friends with true aliens.

As I drifted away from my new friends, their alien forms blurring in my vision, I couldn't help but wonder: What lesson was there in this journey? Communication is difficult even under the best of circumstances, stripping communication down to its base of emotion was even more difficult and profound than I could have ever imagined.

I can only wait for the next time I go hurtling across the multiverse, ready to face whatever strange lands and beings await me. For now, though, I carry with me the memory of laughter shared with circles of living color, a reminder that connection can transcend even the most alien of barriers.