By Quintus Ni

In my world, the dark night blinds me from stars all over the sky and deprives me of the vast universe. Only cool breezes blow me awake.

Looking back, my life over the past dozen years knows no dramatic ups or downs; it has only consisted of ordinary memories. I have been undistinguished all along, which tires me tremendously. I do not revolt by grand rebukes, but I write it down and lock it away along with stories that are hard to tell, of course. Meanwhile, I rely on fantasies, dreaming of things that I desire badly that cannot be achieved in reality. After a moment of enjoying the imaginative possession, I inevitably fall to reality. This repeats again and again.

I have a pair of sharp eyes, but I can never see my current situation clearly. Everything seems splendid to me, without knowing that keeping the status quo is followed by thorough darkness. All of a sudden, I find myself good at enduring but poor at controlling myself. When I am alone, I always decorate things that touch my heart with a little bit of fantasy and then keep them under wraps. But, if someone touches upon them unconsciously, I will collapse in public and fall into the abyss that will never return. I will console myself after falling back to loneliness. I know this will not bring me any thoughts or behaviors to improve myself, but I am always too lazy to accept it.

It may dawn on me in one instant, but I usually dispel my insights in the next moment. In helplessness, I finally understand that the word “negativity” is enough to generalize my life. Now, fantasies and silences are also retreating because my “real” self is too far away from reality!

Introspection Editor: Luke Langlois