Real World

It wasn't so much that I was afraid of the place itself, but I was afraid of the creatures who masqueraded as people.

Bye-bye. I'm off on a journey to the real world. 'Cause within this meta-reality what's real is this - my death.

I'm this superphilosophical kind of person. Stuck in a prison of abstract ideas and overpowering emotions, I have this personality that makes it really hard to survive.

Friends are a weird thing. It seems like they know all about you, but then they don’t understand you at all.

In reality of everyday occurrences I've had to submit to people in order not to lose them. It's less the submission that bothers me, I guess, than how it makes my life miserable. And what happens if I can't forgive myself for making that choice? And what if, in order to keep on living, I have to continue to accept myself? What am I supposed to do? Conclusion: It'd be best if I'm destroyed. The best thing is for me just to vanish.

I’m still afraid of being totally honest. I’m more afraid of this than dying.

Let's face it: the world is twisted. And rotten.

I was in a self-induced depression. Welcome to me Real World.

And what if, in order to keep on living, I have to continue to accept myself?

If you say I hide things because I'm shy, that can't be right. I've finally realized it's for a different reason-- that I don't want to see the darkness that lies in my heart

[..] and there are tons of people I hate so much that I wouldn't mind taking them out. But killing them wouldn't get me anywhere - that's the conclusion I always come to. If I'm going to pay for it in the end, I might as well let them live.

Maybe what I want is to cut all ties with everybody. The thread or something that keeps me connected to the world, the worthless proof that I exist.

Kids lose their trust in the parents they love, but still accept them, so they end up not trusting themselves anymore.

Fortunately for me, I ran across some girls I could get along with so I could enjoy high school life okay, but it must be awful for kids who don't get along with anybody. We're different from our parents, a completely different species from our teachers. And kids who are one grade apart you are in a different world altogether. In other words, we're basically surrounded by enemies and have to make it on our own.

I was frightened by the optimism of adults, their stupid trust in science to treat a troubled heart. Afraid of their obsession with believing they have to treat troubled kids. I just wanted them to leave me alone, so how come they didn't get it? But that's the way it always is.

If the old man looked at straight lines to keep his act together, I was going to stare at curved lines and go down in flames.

I was afraid of the creatures who masqueraded as people.

All I want is for someone to understand me before I die. With death staring me in the face, I finally understand the reason novelists write books: before they die they want somebody, somewhere, to understand them.

To live and imagine. That's the job left for those of us who've survived.

This didn't make me sad exactly - it was more a feeling that my own world was too simple, too smooth, too boring and worthless. The most I could do was have another name, Ninna Hori.

I decided then and there I was never going to have kids.

When high school girls like us freak out, people are always able to overpower us before we do something stupid, like hijacking a bus or running around with a knife. Which is why girls arm themselves beforehand so they don't get caught up in something like that. Boys probably aren't so good at protecting themselves.

Walk around Tokyo and all you see are people trying to sell you something. Tell them okay and before you know you have bought something. Make the mistake of telling your address and now you're on a mailing list. Some old guy pats you on the shoulder and before you know what hit you you're in a hotel room. Stalkers' victims, the ones they kill, are always women.

But even a nice mom and dad like this can't really sense how their child's been assaulted by commercialism ever since she was little, how she's lived in fear of being eaten alive by the morons around her. They just don't get it. Mom always lectures me about not being afraid of getting hurt, but all she can imagine is the kind of hurt she's experienced herself. She has no idea of the threats that surround kids these days, how much we're bullied, how much hurt this causes.

Loneliness. Sometimes that awful feeling causes you to do something stupid.

I realized that the last thing I wanted to do was go home. A weird feeling—like on the one hand I wanted to go back to that other world, but at the same time didn’t care if my connections to it were cut forever. It wasn’t a feeling of being free or anything. I just didn’t want to go back. I wanted to float somewhere in between.

Because I love somebody I don’t trust anymore, I’ve lost all faith in myself. I bet it’s like this when parents abuse their children. Kids lose their trust in the parents they love, but still accept them, so they end up not trusting themselves anymore. Check it out, Worm. This is what I mean by something irreparable. Not murdering your mother.

What did she mean, study like you’re going to die? She said she spit up blood, but is that for real? Is studying really worth dying for? I couldn’t accept it, and I guess that was one of my weak points.

It wasn’t so much that I was afraid of the place itself, but I was afraid of the creatures who masqueraded as people. And I became afraid of myself for stirring up such hatred in others.

You have to be careful, Terauchi always warned us, or you'll wind up in some database. Then adults will control you.