Sunday, September 5, 2010

Day 10. A letter to an alien race

My Dearest Doctor*,

You once said that the words 'Help Me' are two words that you never refuse. So I ask you, with all seriousness, to help me, please! Please come pick me up in your magical blue box and show me all of time and space. I dream about that box. I dream of all of the adventures that we would have together, all the running, all the amazing things that you could teach me. Sometimes I forget to turn my speakers off at night and my instant messenger will receive a notification and suddenly my room will echo with the sounds of the TARDIS taking off or landing, and I will jolt awake, thinking that you've finally come for me, and I am beyond disappointed when I finally shake myself awake and realize that you're not really here. Some days, the thought of continuing this mundane existence, the same thing every day, no adventure, it's maddening. The things that every one else is consumed with having or obtaining...getting married, having kids, having a career...they matter very little to me. I don't think I was made for this world, and I know that you can show me the entire universe in all it's glory. So please, Doctor, help me. Come whisk me away. I would be a brilliant companion, and I love bananas too.

With all my undying love,

* The Doctor is the last of the Time Lords: his home planet of Gallifrey was destroyed, as were all of his people...therefore he constitutes an 'Alien Race'


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