Log #2

2007-04-26T17:16:00.000-07:00

I have returned, after many a restless night. I still have very little to say. However, I suppose that you will be curious as to my kinds appearance. Well, we usually have grey-blue skin, which does not grow hair. We have large, solid-colored eyes and two thick feelers that protrude from the back of our skull. We have legs that resemble that of a goat or horse, as in we walk up on our haunches. We have three fingers and two toes. Dress is determined by rank and title. Furthermore, we have no outer ear, and our nostrils are only pinpricks just above our eyes. Our typical weight is around 40-50 kilograms roughly on Earth and we are naturally a bit smaller than the average human adult. Because of the size of our planet, our gravitational pull is greater, demanding stronger muscles. I will try to get a sketch of our skeletal arrangement soon. Our basic skeleton is similar to humans with a few exceptions. For instance, our arms and legs are longer in proportion and our rib cages are more triangular. Our skulls are more spherical than yours, and our jaws are significantly smaller. We have very strong hands and feet, and therefore stronger bones here. Our bodies incorporate a lot more cartilage than yours to prevent injuries and strains. As far as brain functions go, we have more defined limbic systems and smaller medullas. Our cerebrum concentrates much more on logic and senses than yours, and much less on emotion and theory.

Once again, I bid you farewell until some divine inspiration brings me to post more onto this web log. Hyuehzi eyanyo.

Log #1

2007-04-11T09:11:00.000-07:00

I find this to be my first time officially documenting my environment via this web log concept. I am afraid I have much to tell, but very little to say. To introduce my record here, I would first like to comment on the idea of the blog.

Apparently, very little happens among mankind, as people have the time to simply record their idleness for all of the uncaring world to see. I find this rather discouraging, and furthermore find my distaste for this world increasing rapidly. However, it seems as though I'm stuck here, and I must do something to keep myself sane and reasonably conscious.

To begin, I suppose you will, by nature, wonder about me and my kind. First off, my title here seems to be Emily. I find this degrading, but I suppose man knows no better. At home, I was addressed as Arienialla, or at least, that is how I assume you could spell it here. It roughly means "teacher" or "supportive one". That is not my name, but I was a teacher of sorts before I arrived here. True names are rarely shared, as titles are far more important to us. The title of one such as I, becomes the name that all the universe shall know you by. Your title is your life, your career, your habitat. Everything you are is in your title.

My job, as you may have guessed, was to train those younger than I to receive their titles. A crucial role in society. To be worthy of a title, you must be completely confident and respectful of whatever future you are assigned to. After your title has been given to you, you are forever expected to fulfill the given duties. All defiance to this rule is highly shunned, and harshly punishable. I can still remember the very moment when I was stamped forever as a teacher. Before that moment is a blur, only vague shadows and distant sounds. I suspect that the memory is lightly erased after the ceremony, to prevent any distractions from carrying to the work field. This seems reasonable enough.

My mind grows weary of this, and my words run thin with confusion. If you have the spark of a query to help my mind open a new aspect of my kind, feel free to ask. Once a question has been addressed, please avoid repetition. As much as I know that mankind cannot help it, your excessive curiosity does become tiresome.

Life Trapped, Far From Home

Log #2

Log #1