They are killing me. I told the police, but they laughed at me and refused to help me. In fact they are bent to kill me every day. When I told this to the police, they kept me and sent me to a psychiatrist. He was a nice man with a beard, but he didn't understand a thing. He asked me what my age was. I told him, but he just kept asking silly questions, like what my age would be in a year. I refused to answer, after all, I'm old enough to not be in pre-school anymore. He wrote that down too. He asked me what my plans for the day where and I said, I will go swimming. We talked a bit more, and then he let me go. I guess he thinks people who go swimming are harmless. But they aren't, I know that because they probably go swimming too once a week. And they are killing me. Killing me softly. Not.

I look into the laughing face of the woman selling apples. She is smiling because she doesn't know what they are doing. I buy two apples. It isn't her fault after all. They are at fault. They are well educated. Without a working conscience. Wearing white clothes. Like the psychiatrist.

I have reached the pool. I am wearing my swimming trunks. You might ask, "Why go swimming when they are out to kill you?", but it doesn't matter. Matter. Accelerated to the speed of light itself. Well, almost to the speed of light. I step out of the pool. Maybe I should go to the police again. No. They asked "Show me the body!" and laughed. Maybe I should just stand somewhere and wear a sign saying "They are killing me". Maybe someone would stop and ask "Who?" and I would tell them. And someone would ask "Why?" and I would tell them "For science". They don't want my dead body. They can't ever see it. No one can. But I know. I know there was intelligent life in the universe. After all the universe is huge. And they killed it. Little alien scientists in their cute white clothes. They even have a name for it, they call it the Fermi paradox. And I am the only one on Earth who understands that there is no paradox. Just dead aliens. It is pure logic. Matter. Accelerated to the speed of light itself. Hitting other matter.

I write in an internet forum. The world needs to know. Show me the body. Again. He understands nothing. He writes "But you still are around!". As if that would prove anything. Matter hitting other matter. Producing particles that have not been observed but billions of years ago. They say it isn't dangerous. It never is. After all, if you are dead, who is left to sue for damages? Nobody is. That is their secret. Particles that have not been observed but billions of years ago, unknown to man. They think they don't exist. I don't exist, they don't exist, no one on Earth exists. No insurance to pay out. After they collide the particle beams in their accelerator. Daily. Several times a day. Wondering about the Fermi paradox. There is no intelligent life on Earth because they aren't intelligent. It is obvious to me. Intelligent life wouldn't kill itself. Daily. Several times a day.

They are probably wondering why the results of their experiments are so boring. No strangelets produced, no tiny black holes found. They are killing me. In nanoseconds. The strange matters eats up the Earth. Maybe they will understand when one day a spaceship from planet Earth orbits the remains of the planet where the alien scientists lived. In their white clothes. Turning the planet into strange matter. And finally they will conduct their experiments from a safe distance and will observe strangelets. They never will meet the alien scientists. Because they are dead. Dead like I am. In a different world. Quantum physics says many worlds exist. Strangelets exist. They say they have experimental proof that they don't exist. They do. In a world that was mine and isn't anymore mine. The night is coming. Finally I realize who I am. I am the man who likes strangelets.

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