Wierdbutsoft

🛸 “Is this human contact?”

…a drawing from the day i couldnt no more

I drew this alien while sitting in silence, somewhere between crying and overthinking.
I had walked far that day. My backpack was heavy, but not as heavy as my brain or the voices it had from yesterdays conversertions.

The sketch came out of nowhere — or maybe it came from everywhere.
You know that moment where your body is quiet, but your thoughts are kicking like a mad Child?
That.

The alien isn’t scary.
He looks like someone who’s just been told, “Be kind to yourself,”
only to be left alone 20 minutes later by the very person who said it.

“We’ll keep in touch,”
they say,
as if closeness can survive on signal alone.

“You’re not alone,”
but they pack up,
and keep walking.

---

I’ve started to realise that human contact often feels more alien than silence.
People mean well.
But sometimes what they say echoes too loud in an empty space.

This drawing was my way of answering all those polite phrases with a quiet,

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

I don’t know if this counts as art.
But it counted to me.
And that day, it was enough.

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