I live among ex-pats with whom I can't communicate, because we don't share our patria. I walk down the street alongside strangers who speak a different logic, though we apply the same language. I drink wisdom with aliens who don't get the obvious message of this planet's wine. All around me I observe queer* species, twisted races and inhumanely coloured specimen with whom I, strangely, happen to have the shape in common.
Then I feel that there is absolutely no connection between me and them - not even the Son Connection; except for the Father Connection.
*in any sense you, alien, fancy.
