Dear Diary,

Going out into the world today, I find myself a surprise,

There are buildings the size of mountains right before my very eyes.

People are milling about wearing the most astonishing of things,

Like bright red hair the size of a bear and ears laden with rings.

I say to myself, where am I now? The future's so bizarre,

Can't stop a moment just to think without getting hit by a 'car.'

Technology's so strange to see, though we had it long ago,

Now the mortals all possess it as they run hastily to and fro.

I say to myself, 'What am I doing, here on the streets of the New York?'

'…and why,' I'm also thinking, 'does no one have with them a spork?'

What pointless thoughts, and though there are lots of them to go around,

My place is not among the mortals, down here on the ground.

I must leave soon, I do regret, and with every passing day,

I wish and hope with all my might that things will never change.

What happened to the days when we used to play outside and in the sun,

Time may never tell, old friend, but it cannot ever be undone.

So long for now,

Demeter