We perceive the world, and we perceive the pain that comes with it. So, how can we possibly escape it?
It was seven in the morning. I hadn't slept, as usual. I don't really know why I forced myself to stay awake the whole night, but what happened, happened—and now I had to go to school. Not because I'm a hardworking student, nor because I enjoy being around people, but simply because I'm obliged to. Sometimes I feel there's no point in going to school—spending time with others, wasting hours on stupid jokes and those shallow activities students seem to love.
I don't know whether I'm special or just a fool for calling them shallow simply because they laugh at everything, but one thing I'm sure of: I'm not like them. And I don't mean that I'm better than they are. Being human means I must be flawed in certain ways. By that, I mean everything related to desire. Yes, I'm someone who enjoys masturbation. I might even take a bit of pride in it, since honestly, I see nothing wrong with it—except that it ends too quickly.
Carrying my bag, exhausted from lack of sleep, I stepped outside and began walking toward school, watching the streets of my city. Suddenly, my eyes caught a girl who looked just like me—tired, gloomy, half-asleep. I looked at her with contempt. I despise people who pretend to be depressed. Though I can't deny that I sometimes pretend to be depressed myself, for many reasons—one of which is avoiding confrontation with my true self. Instead of facing life and its struggles, isn't it easier to fake depression and find an excuse that allows me to escape?
I approached her and asked, "What's your name?"
She replied coldly, almost confused, "My name's Nezuko. And you?"
I said, "My name's Rin. I am a god."
"God?" Nezuko laughed. "Hahaha."
I said it half-jokingly, yet something inside me told me I truly meant it. Why shouldn't I be a god? Am I not better than others? Am I not more aware of myself than they are?
With a sharp tone, I said, "I'm not joking. Isn't every human being a self-sufficient existence branching from divinity? Aren't we, in some way, fragments of god?"
Nezuko replied, "I really don't understand what you mean. Are you part of some kind of suspicious religious cult?"
She said that with visible tension.
I answered with blind confidence, "A religious cult… hmm."
Still looking surprised, Nezuko said, "If you're a god, then start by saving yourself. Doesn't your face look terribly pale?"
Her words struck me, and I couldn't respond. Suddenly, Nezuko started running across the street.