I am to study such transcendent shattering of reality by paradoxically insubstantial delusions. This is my assigment for twenty xodules, or approximately 1346 Earth Years. As you know me now or sometime — I am Relf Milm.

I often walk the avenues of Dallas or Chicago, of Detroit or Los Angeles, and marvel at the brickswirl darkvines of all those old downtowns. I love, too, the remorseful brokenness, the hopeful and forgotten crevices of these lovable cesspools of accumulated humanity. In the current xodule, I am assigned to the country known as the United States of America, which moniker is ironical for various etymylogical and evidently manifest reasons I shall not go into presently due to limitations of spacetime and pertinency — but forgive my digression. The aforementioned cities are prominent locations in this nation and I have grown to love them, along with scores of others I have visited and lived in over my recent assignment.

As I have dwelled among these Earthlings, I have tried on their form and the peculiar arrangement of their internal organs, which differs greatly from those of our home planet, due to the difference of energetic influence present in this sector of the Galaxy. As a result, I have suffered from their ailments and shared their elations in my grand disguise. At times, I worry that my shapeshifting skill has atrophied, having no brethren here planetside with which to discourse upon its subtle techniques, nor elder masters from which to glean invaluable insights to aid me in the continued progression of my craft.

In any case, I was just now floating the toroid of my consciousness back home to Vevyr — a task not chosen for the completion of this journal entry, and so perhaps unfitting. Forgive me: it is difficult to not be occasionally plagued by the bittersweet nostalgia of homesickness.

Where was I — ah yes... the amazing and decrepit downtowns of this rustic backwoods world. There is such a spectrum'd perfection of bramble and brick in these new-old centers of long-dead industry. Through infrared and spectroscopic lens-morph they appear far more beautiful than as seen by the native Earth vision which I have so long worn as an odd sort of semi-blindness. I have included with my narrative a few images as seen by various modes of our own Ylvic eyes. A pity indeed that these creatures cannot even properly behold the aesthetic brilliance of their own decaying histories!

*
As alluded to in the preamble of this entry, I have studied and even, yes, admired much the unrealities subscribed to by these beings. There are several major threads of archetypical world belief I have identified: each, if it is possible, more insane than the last. They are utterly convinced of the realness of the conceptual delusions they base their living upon — and often commit violence against those in other factions on this basis. Quite often, they even turn on their own tribesman.

They foment unnecessary dramas on the world stage which, however, are extraordinarily entertaining to an outsider like myself, even one as soulbound to the tireless emanation of universal compassion as I. The rumors heard upon far Vek of the crazed lunacy of the Earthlings is not exaggerated — it may even be understated. The cunning intrigue of their warfare rivals the fictional plays shown in our own theaters. Though, they are in the possession as well of great genius, of brilliance far above the level which seems possible for such barabaric creatures. It is certainly a paradox of sorts, one which I never tire of observing.

May I ask, dear reader...? Do you... do you like pretty pictures? I fear, after translation, that my dictation will be nearly unintelligible, so different is the tongue of this planet from our own. Also, my own mental fortitude has begun to flag due to the sustained effort of crafting this transmission. I hope, though, the images which I have enclosed in encoded fashion with this farcast will be marvels to all who receive them. I have so many thousands more... yet these shall have to do for the time being. As you know, bandwidth is limited by the duration of the manifestation of auspicious plasmic filaments whose quality of quantum teleportation directs such messages to distant stars.

I hope I was able to convey some small sense of the rough yet gorgeous scenery to be found in the forgotten corners of this world's great metropolises. I shall certainly beam you again — likely when I am re-stationed to another side of this curious globe, if another portal-line does not open before. Yod's Light be with You, upon You, in You, through You.