I Wrote a Poem and Now I'm Stuck in Another World with an Idiot.
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Here's some big news... I will no longer be uploading. Because the novel has finally been contracted! And I will continue my work at this link: https://www.webnovel.com/book/i-wrote-a-poem-and-now-i'm-stuck-in-another-world-with-an-idiot_21613324105803105 My effort has finally paid off, and I once again ask for your continued support. Cover art by: https://instagram.com/michiimii_?utm_medium=copy_link
(The story starts at Chapter 2! Stay here if you want philosophy!)
"Fantasy is hardly an escape from reality. It is a way of understanding it."-Lloyd Alexander, a quote from a man that made fantasy the perfect remedy for living in a miserable hell.
You may agree with him or not, but:
fantasizing about having an incredible ability that defies reason to make up for your lack of talent, being put in a position where you can make a significant impact on the lives of many to make up for being insignificant.
Living a fictional scenario with what you desire because, in reality, what you aspire is impossible, or simply living someone else's life because you are unsatisfied with your own.
At least one of these thoughts has come up in your mind. It sounds like escaping reality, but it's just your way of understanding it; you know what you want is impossible but, you still want it.
The sheer scale of the Universe is more than enough to make you feel insignificant. It's big enough to make you feel like a speck in one frame from an enormous open-world video game or a plastic bottle trying to fit the Pacific ocean.
This is where our individual fantasies save us. To combat this sad reality, we come up with fictional situations where we are not insignificant. Our delusions differ, but a single factor connects it all; it makes our fear of being insignificant disappear.
So instead of being one of many replaceable characters. In your fantasy, you become the main character loved by everybody.
Instead of being some inconsequential passerby in a movie scene... in your fantasy, you're the lead actor in an award-winning film.
And instead of being some anti-social, shut-in loner without people to rely on... in your fantasy, you have a circle of people who care for you.
These delusions may be childish, it may be impossible or downright outrageous, but it helps us not succumb to a void of despair, one where we cannot escape.
Fantasy may not fulfill your desire, but it is another way to find happiness in a world that doesn't want you to.
The second remedy for living in a miserable hell is doing righteous deeds for our satisfaction and the thought of being repaid.
The act of doing "good" to feed our ego and to be "favored" by everyone, and when someone actually needs help, if they gain nothing in return, their eyes and ears suddenly disappear.
This remedy for hell makes this hell miserable, but sadly, it has always been part of human nature, so try to imagine that toxic nature with a few billion people, and you got what's called society.
In a society where every individual serves themselves to a certain extent, they only do good deeds so they'll feel good about themselves and for good karma.
Finding someone who wants the best for you with pure intentions is beyond rare, so if you ever come across those people, keep them close for the rest of your life.
This selfish act of selflessness is the truth nobody dares to acknowledge. Only the sparse amount of genuine selfless humans who are willing to commit suicide in this society and victims of this hell accepts this truth. These self-centered, selfless acts we do have been humanity's way of life.
Living life in fantasy because reality is underwhelming, benefiting ourselves with self-centered, selfless acts.
These thoughts are the backbone of this journey, an adventure through the abyss, a place where 66 books from God combined, made for teaching us the proper way to live without hurting anybody, made nothing better.
Even a place of eternal torture filled with living incarnations of evil didn't stop our intelligent species from sinning.
In this place, unless you are exceptional, you are just a tiny piece of plastic in a garbage dump. Your death is another number in the stat sheets. How you live and how long do you live in this abyss does not matter.
This place isn't a struggle for survival; it's something crueler. In the center of this miserable hell, there lies a pit of despair everybody eventually falls into.
Within this massive patch of quicksand, even if you lived an extraordinary and memorable life, even if you lived a century, one day you'll be forgotten, and everything you've done is nothing. You will die a second and final death.
This is the most depressing thought that became a reality in this shithole. It's the pit of despair everybody falls into, the abyss I chose to venture into.
