Yes, this is a blog

When your visage graces my screen I recoil and turn away. The jolt fires up my spine and I hover paralytic with my head down and my eyes sidled. A jittery kid hiding and peeking behind the doorpost. Irrational, stupid fear. Fear that has stained my life, stunted my growth. To look away is just to let your mind wander, to freeze that frame and elaborate grotesque imagery from its imprint more haunting than anything solid. Look again. Just a man. Man of affliction. Great, aberrant, horrible. Beyond different. I know your title and the name shadowed by it. Been taken by your history, heard but never seen. Often you've returned to my thoughts, inexplicable as your continued infamy. Your bulbous forehead and crimped mouth and gnarled contusions the marks of defective notoriety. A tumorous enigma more famous than most. Could I see myself in you? No. I wouldn't dare. How ludicrous are my complaints compared to yours, king pariah. There is none more ostracized, no one farther away. But...

He couldn't make out any of their shapes in the window though he knew them by heart. Cassiopeia and Orion and Ursa Minor. Their weapons and their bipedal forms. On his own volition he studied them as a child always with the dream and motivation to travel by them, to greet them on their own turf and wave a hand hello in that great black open. The excitement and allure that for many had been lost but never for him. So groundbreaking and terrifying were the advances in galactic traversal. Expedited interstellar travel. The colonization of celestial bodies. The discovery and communication of alien species. Their arrivals came with point impacts that faded and disappeared not a moment after they had solidified. Just another facet of life, exploding every prior sight and sound known to existence then shrinking back down again. Such was the way of people, be them earthlings or seven-foot tall speaking reptiles. Adapters. There they were, a family of them sequestered by a docking station...