I wonder what specific event occurred in my life for it to snowball down to here. I mean, I always knew it was going to turn out like this. Did I? Yes I’m sure. I was really confident in knowing this was my life, so why for some reason, did I still have hope? Hope that something crazy will flip my whole life and suddenly make it better. It’ll make it so much better that it no longer resembles any parts of my old life, my old habits, my old beliefs. It would not have a single thing that correlates to me, that’s how good my life would be. I still dream about it. I daydream a lot actually. Most of my time consists of memories and dreams that will never be real. But I guess that’s why they're called dreams, because if they became a reality, they would lose all that sparkle and brightness and become something normal and nasty. Every day I dream that maybe I could go back in time and make the right choices, instead of just sitting there, waiting, wasting time. That’s all I knew, how to waste time. Wasn’t really taught to use it wisely. How can I even use it wisely? I have no goals, no friends, no family, nothing. Can’t really waste it now, I have nothing that exists for me to even waste time. I must be something else. What do normal people do? They hang out, work on their careers, have a love life, and go to school. They’re always just socializing with each other. Don’t get me wrong, I still go outside to grab food and walk around, but I haven’t really talked to people since I graduated high school, and even then, I was very enclosed within myself. I actually don’t remember that much back then. That’s right, my past memories are always fogging for me, they usually come and go day by day, sometimes in my sleep too. In those moments, that one specific memory becomes clear, like if I’m reliving it all, the thoughts, emotions, the bleakness. Then it disappears again, and I go back to whatever I was doing. Not like I was doing anything important, all I do is play video games and surf the internet. I mean, I was born with the internet in my hands. Since day one, I’ve been an internet baby. I would spend my days watching, and watching, and watching. I didn’t have friends when I was in primary school, so instead of playing tag or swings, I would just sit on the bench and watch all the kids play.
“I couldn’t play, I wasn’t meant for it,” is what I would think back then. What was for me was going straight home to my room and turning on my video game console. Maybe that's when it all went wrong. I’m trying to look back further but I can’t. My brain is starting to freeze up, maybe it could be because it’s the middle of the night and all I ate were sodium noodles and 2 liters of soda. I don’t have anyone to really tell me,
“You can’t be living like this!” It doesn’t matter that I eat like shit, there’s no need to feel good the next day. It doesn’t matter that my apartment room is filled with crumbs and trash everywhere, no one goes inside this place besides me. It doesn’t matter that I look twenty years older than my actual age, I have no one to look good to. To give more context, my room is the shape of a square with just a twin size mattress that I had as a kid and still use. There’s so much stains and dirt that the mattress is permanently black on the top instead of the usual white. I have a kitchen but I never use it because I don’t cook. It doesn’t matter how the food tastes if all I ever ate was processed goop. So it is filled with dirty dishes and trash bags. The only valuable objects in my room are the microwave and my computer. All this food talking reminds me that I’m out of groceries. I don’t call them that though. I just call them things, they're not groceries or food, they’re just things that I put in my body.
I get up and start heading out of the room and walk to the nearest convenience store open. I know it’s way past midnight but I don’t have anything to do tomorrow, or the next day, or the next day. It’s cold outside, and I can't see the stars out due to light pollution. I actually have never seen a full sky without light pollution. I bet it looks really nice. It might seem scarier at first to walk alone in the middle of the night, but it’s far better than walking in the daytime for me. Because it’s late, there are no humans outside to stare at me, it’s just me and the streetlights. I don’t know why but street lights, the light that it produces, it gives me such nostalgia for a place that doesn’t exist. Like a different world from outer space, full of lights. Red, green, blue, purple, etc. Each color resonates with an emotion stored within my brain. A world filled with life represented by these bright, bright colors. I feel like I’ve seen that world through my eyes. I always had that idea in my head since I was little. I didn’t know where it came from at first, but now I’m starting to guess it’s due to being online for the majority of my life. All those colors on a tiny rectangle screen, flashing in my eyes. Now every time I see a source of light, from the streetlights to lightbulbs to the cars beams, my brain just automatically connects it to the colorful world of online. I’ve always been online, whether that be from playing video games to watching movies and shows to listening to music and OSTs, my eyes were always glued onto the screen. I don’t know why, but it's just so fun. There seems to be so much life in the digital world. But when I go outside, to the “real world,” it’s as if the colors were all sucked out. Everything outside is bleak, devoid of any substance. I might be addicted, but honestly, it doesn’t really matter. Like I said, there’s no one to tell me otherwise, there’s nothing out there I need to prove or change or something. There might be something wrong with me, of course. I knew that a long time ago. Humans my age aren’t walking alone in the middle of the night, trying to grab processed energy for its bodies to barely function properly. No, humans my age are in school, doing hobbies, finding love, and socializing. Kids my age don’t reject college because they felt like it wasn’t in their fate to become something. No, they have ambitions and dreams, no matter how big or small they look to me and others. They still get up and do the things they do to achieve the outcome they desire. Me on the other hand, I gave up a long time ago. Ever since I graduated, all I’ve done was move out of the house. And even that wasn’t my choice either. My parents wanted me to get out of the house and go live, crawl out of my shell and experience all that life has to offer or something like that. I have a hard time remembering what exactly they wanted me to achieve out here. But pretty much, my parents pay for my rent. They probably just thought that a step in the right direction would then make me like them. Then maybe I could become a real human with a real job and get a real wife and children. Like that would ever happen. I knew how my life was going to turn out from the beginning. It’s hard to explain, but I just knew as a child.
“Why, why am I like this?” The empty road fills with the sound of my voice.
The thought pops up in my head once again,
“Oh yeah, that’s why.”
You see, years ago I figured out why things seemed to be off with me. Why my life became the way it has, why everything went so wrong. You see, it’s because humans are evil.
Ever since I was a little kid-no, since I was born, everything human has rejected me. Never once gave me a kind gesture or real emotion. I figured out that most, if not everyone, is secretly lying to you. Lying to others is like second nature to them. Humans can’t say one truth that isn't tainted by the lies in their minds. The worst part is that some might be so far lost that they actually believe their lies are true. The thought process can be so detrimental that you’ll start lying to yourself, and you won’t be able to tell the difference anymore. They will be stuck in a make believe world. Not me though, for I figured out the truth, the real truth of the world. I might even be the only one. I swear that if I wasn’t, I would have found someone like me.
“Yes that’s right, I’m the only one in the world that knows.”
The problem is that they can spot my knowingness, from my appearance to how I act to even my stench. The humans know I am different. So in order to hide the real truth, they put me down in the rat race of society, deeming me a failure of a human. They will stare at me and say,
“There goes another pathetic subhuman.”
“Worthless, can’t even hold a job.”
“His parents must be disappointed.”
Fools. Like I would listen to your false beliefs on how the world should be. I know the truth.
It seems irreversible too, like they’re stuck within themselves. This is due to the real enemy within the nasty humans, their subconscious. That’s the real master behind the strings, dictating their every thought. These poor bastards never had a chance to begin with, the subconscious rules all.
Their subconscious feeds these ideas solely out of disgusting impulses and desires, then transforms them into something we cannot detect whether we actually wanted them or not. creating tainted thoughts and sending them into their conscious to act out upon them. And if the human tries to figure it out, the sneaky subconscious has an ace up its sleeve. The EGO. The subconscious created the EGO to implement the belief that their thinking is the only right way, the “truth,” and nothing can tell them otherwise. The EGO is strong. It can create barriers so high it becomes impossible for the truth to actually set them free. And now, those humans are stuck being rotten.
But I am different because I know the truth. And, because I know the truth, it is like an obligation, my obligation, to spread the truth and destroy the EGO of humanity. But that’s kinda hard to do when you can’t even look them in the eyes.
The automatic doors that open the 24-hour convenience store sometimes take a while to register me as a human, so I just stand outside for a couple of seconds. As I wait until I’m allowed inside, I think about what exactly am I gonna get. My usual things list goes like this:
* Instant Ramen Noodles x 8
* Lemon-Lime Soda 8 Pack x 1
* Vanilla Sandwich Cookies x 2
* Chocolate Biscuit Sticks x 4
* Classic Chips Party Size x 3
* Microwave Taquitos x 2
I wonder if living like this is unhealthy. I wonder if I ate “better” foods, I’d feel more better, more alive than this. You are what you eat, you know? But I rather think I eat like this because of who I am instead. Most of the time, it doesn’t really even taste good, I just feel like I don’t have the time, skill, or money to eat “actual” food. I actually don’t like to eat much anyway.
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Seeing people indulge always made me feel really weird. When they’re watching TV or eating food they enjoy, they have this expression, it’s hard to explain but it’s like a flush of dopamine has hit them, yet they are unaware of it. Just consuming, shoving their face on a processed burger with grease oozing on the bottom dropping on the plate. Watching something entertaining, its eyes wide open, a faint smile with a little of their mouth open. Whenever I see that, especially with people I knew, I would get sick to my stomach, almost fearful of something. And an extreme amount of melancholy overflows my mind, and I’m just thinking to myself, I never want to look like that, I never want to be like that. Most importantly, I never want to be seen like that otherwise I might die. It’s strange, I’ve always thought that since I was a child. Something about expressing indulgence just made me feel a huge guilt of shame.
I’m starting to lose my appetite, maybe I should just go back to the room. I can figure it all out tomorrow, when I feel hunger again. Hunger, hungry. I don’t like to be hungry, I don’t want to be hungry anymore. I don’t like the feeling in my stomach when it tries to eat something but there’s nothing in my system. It almost itches. No, it does itch. I need to scratch something deep inside my stomach but I can’t. I would have to rip out my flesh in order to do that. I can’t do that, otherwise I won’t have a stomach anymore. And if I don’t have a stomach anymore, I won’t be able to move around and eat processed goop, or sit in my room all day staring at the wall, or daydream all I want about real or made-up scenarios. Yes, I won’t be able to do those things. Now thinking about it, the daily activities I do don’t sound that interesting right now. Or at all actually. Why do I only do those activities again? It’s because I’m different, right? Different from the world, It’s not up to my fate, right? It has to be like this, yes it has to. There’s no other way for something like me to live. I didn’t want to be like this, no I didn’t. I had to, something like me could only live this way, no other way, no human way. The itch was starting to get itchier as the thoughts kept pouring in. Each thought came faster than the one before. Thoughts filled up my head until all I heard were third person entities talking inside my head, many voices talking about whatever my thoughts stated. The thoughts were becoming unbearable, I was drowning deep below my head, all the way down until I was closer and closer to my stomach. Where I can hear the itch getting louder and louder around my body. I have become stuck in my never ending pain. Yes, my thoughts have devoured me for all of eternity. Falling more deeper into my dark abyss.
But then, out of nowhere, a light shines brightly as it grabs me from the neverending drowning, and back to reality. A reality where I was already inside the store, already had a basket full of my usual things. I stood for a couple of seconds, confused.
“I was just outside, wasn’t I?”
What I failed to realize at that moment, was that even though I was thinking all those thoughts. From the list of things, to the feeling of indulgences, to the itch of my stomach. I was moving the whole time. Yet it never occurred to me, because I was somewhere else.
I don’t move for a couple of seconds, still processing. I then start to look around my surroundings. I’m in the snacks aisle, my basket is filled with ramen and sodas. Different brands of chips are in front of me.
“Maybe I should get flavored instead of classic this time.”
Once I have gotten my things into the basket, I start walking up to the cashier. I was expecting to see the usual person working at this hour, but instead it was a young girl around my age. Can’t really see what exactly she looks like though because I barely caught a glimpse of her face before I started to look down. I’m not looking at her, I can’t look at her. Eyes scare me, women's eyes especially. I haven’t looked someone in the eye for a long time. When humans stare at me, it’s like they can only spot the “wrong” parts of me and be disgusted. Of course they only see the wrong parts of me, their subconscious blinds them to believe in their own black and white world. Ignorant humans, always pushing their standards onto other creatures. I finally made it up to the girl worker without looking at her and put down my basket onto the table. The girl grabs the basket and starts scanning the things. My eyes start wandering around because it can’t look directly straight otherwise the girl’s eyes would see me. My eyes then noticed the girl’s uniform. Thoughts start pouring in once again.
I wonder if she likes that uniform. Probably not, no one likes to wear uniforms. It looks like it doesn’t even fit her, it’s too small. I wonder how she even puts that on. I wonder what she wears underneath that. I wonder how she looks without that uniform on, or without anything on. I wonder what turns her on, what gets her body temperature rising up. I wonder what exact clothes she would wear to attract the guys she likes, she probably knows what exact outfit to put on to increase her chances. I wonder how she sounds when she’s in bed with the man she desires. I wonder what goes through her mind as she receives that high pleasure. I wonder if she has any taboo pleasures she tries to hide to herself, that she fantasizes every night about. I wonder what she looks like as she gives herself pleasure, how she feels when she thinks about her taboo fantasies. What goes through her head when she lets herself go into her lustful desires.
As my mind indulges in the hornyness of my thoughts, my eyes notice the little tiny hairs on her arms, the dirt under her nails, the veins in her hands. Once my eyes notice these little details, my thoughts start changing.
I wonder what gives her immense joy to keep moving forward, what gives her endless laughter and love. What makes her get angry, enraged to the point where she screams her lungs out. I wonder what gets her excited, maybe a new movie or song or book or anything that she enjoys. I wonder what she likes to do in her spare time, maybe some hobbies? I wonder what hobbies she likes to do, maybe she does a sport or plays an instrument. Maybe she paints and draws, maybe she writes and performs. I wonder what her passions are, what makes her get up in the morning and shoot for the stars. I wonder what type of lifestyle she has, or what lifestyle she wants. I wonder why she works here, maybe saving up for something important. I wonder what makes her scared, what makes her hide herself in her room in the dark. What makes her dread and fearful, What exactly reminds her of death. I wonder who or what is there to give her the most comfort when those times happen. I wonder what she was like when she was younger. I wonder what she’s like as a friend, as a loved one, as a lover. I wonder if she’s happy.
A girl’s hand appears in my vision, waving up and down. The girl’s hand is waving. She is saying something.
“Hello? Sir? Are you there?”
My thoughts have made me blank out again. I must have been standing here for a while. Embarrassment fills my body. I enter the present state.
“Sorry, how much was it?” I said as I kept looking down to make sure she couldn’t see me.
“Twelve dollars.” She sounds annoyed.
I pay the amount, grab the bag full of items, and speed walk out of the 24-hour convenience store. After that incident, I probably won’t go there again.
Was I always like this? Weird and antisocial? Was there ever a point in my life where I felt like one of them? If so, it must have been a long time ago, for I have been living like this, with these thoughts, with this mindset, for so long. It has become my default setting. Oh well, it doesn’t matter anyway. When I think about fitting in and socializing with them, I’m filled with a bitter, distasteful feeling in my head. It just doesn’t sound too appealing. Being in my room all day and watching animated characters make friends and fall in love seems much more interesting. After all, everything in those shows is scripted, perfected to make me feel something. In real life, there’s no perfected script, just a bunch of filler. Yes, everything is amazing in those worlds.
The roads start to fade away from my vision, the streetlights seem to be flickering or something. On second thought, the sidewalk appears a little too flat, absence of anything 3d-ness. Huh, very strange. The painting of the world in my eyes seems to be losing some essence of reality, if you know what I mean. Because all my mind can perceive right now is the sidewalk, the road is no longer in my vision, it has disappeared. The sidewalk somehow keeps increasing and decreasing its saturation. Perhaps the road dissolved right at this moment when I was walking back to the place I live. Perhaps the streetlights start flicking at this moment as well. If that is true, then it makes sense that the sound around me disappears too, no longer hearing anything but little shots of the inner noise you get in your ear, the ringing. Huh, very interesting, it’s almost like I’m dying.
That thought has just triggered a chain of thought.
“Oh wait a minute, I’m not actually dying right now, am I?”
“Holy shit, I am!”
“I can't die right here, I’m out in the open! If they see me in the morning, that would mean…”
“No, I cannot die right here!”
After that, I did what anyone would do in that situation. I ran. I ran as fast as I could to the room I live in. I ran as if my life depended on it, it did. As I ran, the streets kept on appearing and disappearing from my vision. Sometimes it would be bright outside, and a couple of seconds later it would be pitch black. I was running so fast that some of the things in the bags fell, I couldn’t look back though. I had to get to the place before the timer ran out. So I kept running. Because I knew that I could not, absolutely not, have humans know I died. I never knew why that was such an issue to me, having other living things around me when I die, but I never liked the idea and never thought more of it.
I made it back to the place I sleep at in one piece. It turns out I wasn’t dying, it was just the lack of sleep finally kicking in. But I wasn’t able to notice that until I got back. Ironically, because I panic, my heart rate rises up giving me more reason to believe I was. What a joke I am. I dropped so many things that I probably have to go back to the store.
“What a waste of time.” I blurted out.
That’s funny, I can’t waste time, remember? You can’t waste time if you never had anything of value to do. I laughed a little as I lay on my mattress and started initiating the sleeping process. I look back at my actions from tonight.
Do I feel content with how I lived this day? Probably not, but to be honest, it doesn’t really matter. Even if I wanted this day to be as good as they have it, I couldn’t. My path is different from theirs. If it were the same, I wouldn’t be so different. That’s right, I’m not like them, so this is the only way I can live. Yes, this is my fate. I have to live like this.
This all might just be an excuse to fap to the convenience store girl.