02-02-2025, 01:47 PM
Deep in the Zeta Reticuli system, on a planet known as ZR3, I always felt like I didn’t quite fit in. While my fellow Zetas spent their time advancing hyperdimensional physics and perfecting their telepathic Wi-Fi, I was lurking on obscure intergalactic forums, questioning everything.
“Wake up, Zetas! You really think the Galactic Federation isn’t controlled by reptilians?!” I would telepathically scream into the void, only to be ignored. They dismissed me as a conspiracy nut, an embarrassment to the Zeta intellect. But I knew better. I had seen the documents—or at least, highly pixelated versions of them on fringe alien message boards. I knew crop circles were actually a psyop designed to make real alien landings look ridiculous. I was certain the moon was a hologram disguising an intergalactic casino where corrupt Martian elites gambled with planetary resources. And don’t even get me started on cattle mutilations—I have no doubt that’s the work of interdimensional agents trying to frame us Zetas.
Determined to uncover the truth, I joined the Extraterrestrial Reconnaissance & Abduction Program, hoping to get firsthand evidence of what was really happening on Earth. On my first mission, I was assigned to abduct a random human for routine study, but I wasn’t about to follow the script. Instead of scanning and releasing the subject, I interrogated them. “Tell me about the deep state! Who really runs your planet? Is the Illuminati real, or just a distraction from the real controllers?” The human, still groggy from the abduction beam, mumbled something about paying taxes, watching reality TV, and how avocados were overpriced. That’s when it hit me—humans were just as lost as I was.
When I returned to ZR3, I couldn’t stay quiet. I started an underground thought-cast, broadcasting to any Zeta who would listen. I warned them that everything we’d been told about humans was a lie, that the official narrative was full of holes, and that our own leaders were hiding something much bigger. The Zeta High Council was not amused. After multiple warnings to stop spreading “unverified speculation”, they finally had enough. I was banished to Earth, sentenced to live among the very species I had spent my life investigating.
Now stuck on a backwater planet with nothing but my cosmic paranoia and a Wi-Fi connection, I searched for like-minded individuals, those who questioned everything, those who refused to accept the official story. That’s when I found Deny Ignorance. Finally, a place where the truth was pursued, where questions were welcomed, and where the biggest cover-ups were laid bare. I knew I had found my people. I didn’t just land on Earth—I landed exactly where I was meant to be.
“Wake up, Zetas! You really think the Galactic Federation isn’t controlled by reptilians?!” I would telepathically scream into the void, only to be ignored. They dismissed me as a conspiracy nut, an embarrassment to the Zeta intellect. But I knew better. I had seen the documents—or at least, highly pixelated versions of them on fringe alien message boards. I knew crop circles were actually a psyop designed to make real alien landings look ridiculous. I was certain the moon was a hologram disguising an intergalactic casino where corrupt Martian elites gambled with planetary resources. And don’t even get me started on cattle mutilations—I have no doubt that’s the work of interdimensional agents trying to frame us Zetas.
Determined to uncover the truth, I joined the Extraterrestrial Reconnaissance & Abduction Program, hoping to get firsthand evidence of what was really happening on Earth. On my first mission, I was assigned to abduct a random human for routine study, but I wasn’t about to follow the script. Instead of scanning and releasing the subject, I interrogated them. “Tell me about the deep state! Who really runs your planet? Is the Illuminati real, or just a distraction from the real controllers?” The human, still groggy from the abduction beam, mumbled something about paying taxes, watching reality TV, and how avocados were overpriced. That’s when it hit me—humans were just as lost as I was.
When I returned to ZR3, I couldn’t stay quiet. I started an underground thought-cast, broadcasting to any Zeta who would listen. I warned them that everything we’d been told about humans was a lie, that the official narrative was full of holes, and that our own leaders were hiding something much bigger. The Zeta High Council was not amused. After multiple warnings to stop spreading “unverified speculation”, they finally had enough. I was banished to Earth, sentenced to live among the very species I had spent my life investigating.
Now stuck on a backwater planet with nothing but my cosmic paranoia and a Wi-Fi connection, I searched for like-minded individuals, those who questioned everything, those who refused to accept the official story. That’s when I found Deny Ignorance. Finally, a place where the truth was pursued, where questions were welcomed, and where the biggest cover-ups were laid bare. I knew I had found my people. I didn’t just land on Earth—I landed exactly where I was meant to be.
