Others. Just "Others". Same heads all sharing different bodies. The details change but they're all just walking vessels of the zeitgeist. You try to talk to them and you know what they're going to say before they say it.

And I can see it on their faces, the older, pink-skinned Others outside in the real world, I mean. It's the glare, the wrinkles, the expression that looks like it's never smiled. I can tell how much "they" hate me, like they can see in my head and know what kind of ideologies are in it, or maybe the presence of a Hispanic is of inconvenience to them, I have no idea. I don't even wear anything that should set them off for fucks sake.

I think it would hurt a lot less to internalize that "they" simply aren't of comparable makeup to me.