The City Stole My Body

I woke up in the middle of a busy city.
I have been taken. Someone stole me. They snatched my body from its home in space and brought me to this gritty ball called Earth. Everything looks the same, but the energy is different. Its swirling all around me in rhythmic balls of contradictions. It is making me dizzy and unsure of this planet and it’s populants. They look tired, but mostly they just look like me. Pink and fleshy, they mind their business and (barely) try not to bump into me as they march down the sidewalk - where I have been dropped off. This place reminds me of a city on my home planet, Venus, but then again all cities remind me of each other. The language here is different from my own, and no one seems to understand what I am saying. I am watching the auras of those around me rise up and melt into one big, dull brown fog. Are these people not heartbroken? Their colors have been tarnished and polluted. Where I am from, this is a travesty. But here on Earth, no one seems to mind. In fact, they are so unbothered I don't think they have even noticed.
I'm still a little disorientated and I'm not really sure what to do next. I started walking against the flow of pedestrian traffic, watching my own aura, my bright orange halo, break through the hazy fog of all the others.
Before I knew it, years had passed and I was sort-of comfy here on Earth. A day here is only a fraction of a day on Venus. The sun sets, and rises, and sets, and rises in what feels like a blink of an eye. But I don’t think I’ll be getting home any time soon, so I began to accept my new home on the blue marble. I started to learn the language and get a new sense for this weird planet’s weird people. I learned quickly that not everyone here can see energy like the Venusians. In fact, I have yet to meet one earth dweller that can.
I do know they can feel it though, deep in their bones.
And maybe that's why everyone’s so exhausted.
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