Noumenon

Earth wants to be comfortable. The more comfortable someone is, a society is, the less likely they are to seek change, even positive change.

They may not appreciate our point of view. We might frighten them, or bore them, or make them uncomfortable. This does not mean we should go away.

The perspective changes the facts.

Look, kid. [...] You've got to face it, we're all spoons, ok?

So, you're a glass half-empty man." McCloud tapped his fingertips against the beer glass. Reggie shrugged. "Maybe I am." "Here's something I think glass-half-empty people always fail to consider..." He paused. Reggie pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. "What?" With a flick of his wrist, McCloud had the beer in his hand. In the next moment, he poured it down Reggie's front. "AUGH!" Reggie sprang up trying to jump away from the liquid that had already soaked through to his skin. "What the hell?!" McCloud laughed. "It's not the empty that leaves an impression, is it?

They have a newness about them. Like they are completely clean and have yet to be cleaned at the same time. Adults, on the other hand, have an individuality about them. Like all the original paint has been scraped off and a new, bolder coat applied.

As the board shuffled out of the room, Straifer was struck by the duality of expressions held on every face. Half somberness, half wonderment. The atmosphere lay thick with tension.

We were aliens now. Nomads in uncharted territory.