Do you ever have the feeling you're a tourist on earth? You'll be
walking down the street and suddenly it's like a moving postcard
around you? "Here's how people live, in big house-shaped boxes to
keep off 'rain' and 'snow,' holes cut in the sides so they can see
out. They move around in smaller boxes, painted different colors,
with wheels on the corners. They need this box-culture because
each person thinks of herself and himself as locked in a box called
a 'body,' arms and legs, fingers to move pencils and tools, languages
because they've forgotten how to communicate, eyes because they've
forgotten how to see. Odd little planet. Wish you were here.
Home soon.
-- Richard Bach. The bridge across forever. (1989)