Diary Of 1000-Personas

- J

Do you ever get the feeling, you're the bad guy?

Your life isn't bad, nor is it good.

You have good memories, but you have more bad ones.

You've done things you regret, and regret not doing others.

Compared to everyone else, you're even living happily.

So, why.. why does it feel like everything's wrong?

Because you're dramatic, maybe?

Because you're too self-conscious, probably?

Or.. because your life and feelings are determined by the gods and their ink?
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They call me paranoid.

I've never felt like I belonged. Something felt wrong inside me.

My skin, my name, my body—it was chosen for me, I can't change them.

If I want to, I have to explain myself. Explain to my parents, siblings, and other relatives, to my "family"—I didn't chose them.

It's a strange thing to be wary of, apparently.

Everyone else settled in where they are born.

Even when, as the years go by, they regret every step they take.

Even when their so-called family make the terrifying thundering of a violent and steep waterfall seem like a pleasant end of their lifetime.

When it feels like the world is caving in everyday, but they still have to move on and be fine.

I don't agree with feeling like this.

I don't agree that it's a feeling that passes or that the feeling is my fault.

No, I don't believe it is.

You know what I believe? I believe in gods who dictate everything.

I believe it was them, several mighty beings, putting on puppet shows for each other. They write our scripts before even stitching our fabric limbs together.

We're playthings with no will of our own—my feelings, my body, my family, my life—they control everything without a fault.

I don't know if my own thoughts are mine.

But...

I'm not going to live or die like this. In any good story, there needs to be conflict. The gods turn our lives upsidedown with a simple drop of trauma, cursing us for lifetimes without using any energy.

The gods don't face conflict, do they?

Well, they created me... They wrote my story... They must know that I'm coming for them, that I've found a way without death and without pain, and know even gods can fall to revengeful rage.

I don't care how anyone of you feel about your pain.

I hate mine, I fear it.
It is artificial —conjured by things I cannot control.
That won't stop me from fighting.
Against hell and heaven, a fist to the devils and a knife to the gods, I will do whatever it takes.

So, does that make me the bad guy?