The Language of the Aliens from Andromeda

Description

The third published book, and also an "artificial language", is "the Language of the Aliens from Andromeda" called Malagu Veroy, which I began writing twenty years after a "close encounter of the third kind" with them on a bus. The words I adapted, relating to planet Earth, were channelled as I tried to recall or establish astral contact with them. First, I will describe the encounter. A close encounter of the third kind on a bus in 1998.
A close encounter of the third kind – an incident during a night bus ride with his ex-stepmother towards Zadar, at 1 a.m. on 2 July 1998, at the Jasenica site near the Maslenica Bridge.

WARNING! Dear Reader, In this case you are reading an actual true biography, this is not another episode of Dylan Dog and you haven’t stopped by Cinestar! That evening I fantasised about going to Africa on a safari to see strange animals, and I said to my stepmother when I looked out of the bus window, comparing the bushes, trees and shrubs with exotic animals that I had not yet seen in this life at that time: “Sonja see lions, Sonja see giraffes, Sonja see elephants, Sonja see rhinos!”

That was the case for the first few hours of driving. After passing that part of Velebit towards the Maslenica bridge, we sat on the right side of the bus; it was an old school bus with that yellow rubberised wallpaper, there was no top shelf for things, through the window to my left I first saw two-humped camels standing and glowing in the dark, most likely figures or posters, although I don’t know what that would be for there, and a few minutes later, on the right, a white one-storey house, a balcony with marble pillars that made up that fence, a green froggy humanoid comes out on the balcony through a haze of light, I point my finger and shout: “Sonja, what kind of spaceman is that?”, Sonja is not listening.

A few minutes later, the safari truly began. The yellow wallpaper above the window started to swell and crack, and green rhomboid heads with pear-shaped faces emerged from it. They were a thick, light green colour, with yellow, round eyes that had pupils but no eyelids, no nose, and no ears. Their mouths were sealed pink, a smile-like pigmentation, with a small depression, on thin, black, slimy necks resembling bathroom pipes. The rest of the body was in that intersection of space and was impossible to see, emitting a slurred sound as if from a closed mouth.
There were more of them. I asked Sonja what it was, pointing with my finger, and Sonja, in order to blur my experience, answered: “Shadows, it’s only from the great darkness, so our shadows came out like that”, and I’m even more surprised that shadows take on such a shape and they also have her shadow, and not long after that an elderly lady with a curly hairstyle who was sitting on the seat in front of us with a little girl with blond hair was slapped on the head with that head, to which she waved her hand and said: “Oh my God!”, and Sonja as soon as the shadow hit her in the head.

Later, when we were already getting off the bus, when it arrived in Zadar, they started to move inward, and I asked Sonja if the shadows could be moved, and she just said that I could do hers, and she could do hers, and she lied to me that the window was closed so that it was impossible, and then she went to touch the face of that green-headed oddball with her hand.

How did the other passengers react? As far as I know, there was no agitation or screaming, and it even seemed normal to me because I was a 5-year-old child, and I only learned the logic of reality and the impossible in primary school.

At the age of 17, I began to realise this, painting them, making sculptures of them and trying to explain to myself what had happened, and then I realised how little human beings know and how essentially limited human science is.

Motivated by this, I began to compose by channelling it through a special form of meditation, a language which I called Malagū Vērōy or the Language of the Aliens of Andromeda.