As my mind becomes conscious from the heavy traffic seven stories below the outside of my window, my eyes slowly open and meets with the low-rise roof of my apartment. I turn over in my futon to read the time displayed on my phone. 9:10pm
"I overslept again, huh."
I force my upper body to sit up, only to realize my hand is still wrapped around my genitals.
"I must've played with myself before dozing off."
I slide my hand out from under my boxers, only to slide it back in as I feel the urge to masterbate. After finishing a quick session, I don't bother cleaning up from my filth, but rather get up and navigate the darkness of my apartment. I throw a cup of noodles into the microwave and take out two cans of beer from my mini-fridge. Heading back into my living room/bedroom, I turn the TV onto whatever anime is airing this season.
My name is Kazumi Nagatoro. At least, that's my penname. I'm 21 years old, my only education is high school, I'm not sure about my blood type, and I'm a successful novelist who self-publishes my series of web novels into light novels.
But, overall, the person seen before you is nothing but a complete degenerate. Someone who wakes up in the late evening as if it was the morning. Someone who has to masterbate before getting their day started, and is still feeling that urge despite already doing so ten minutes ago.
But the thing is, I don't give a damn.
I don't give a damn how pathetic my life is compared to others my age. As long as I can fully express my laziness, and somewhat depression, in the comfort of my own home, that's all that matters. With the royalties I earn as a successful self-published novelist, there would be no problem moving into a house. Except, I can't even imagine bringing myself to befriend my neighbors, or to even sacrifice the intimacy found when living alone in an apartment. Overall, self-isolation has proven to be effective not only for my own good, but also others.
Growing up, I've been confronted by all my mistakes and shortcomings presented by my emotionally abusive mother. Her influence has had a huge impact to me becoming anti-social. The less you apply yourself in social interactions, the less expectations you're held accountable for. The same goes for the majority of my school years. Whenever you make friends, and those friends change overtime, you are judged for being left in the dark about masculinity, dating, and the typical life of any normie. The less you apply yourself in establishing a normal high school life, the less likely you are to be confronted about it.
Sure, things must be different now, considering my peers and I are far from already graduating high school. But those experiences were enough for me to escape into the words of my own stories, my never ending tales of wish-fulfilment on a socially, mentally, physically, and especially romantic basis.
The only time I ever choose to become sociable in the outside world is if I'm replying to my fans online, exchanging emails with the company who helps me self-publish, and even going out to buy groceries. But, there is also the usual occurences where I have to promote my image as an author. I do this by willingly, but unwillingly, accepting invitations to attend events and other get-togethers for novelists like myself.
Speaking of which, I had already accepted one invitation for an event tomorrow afternoon. Because of my reputation as a successful self-published novelist, I have been given the honor to announce the winners of the Dengeki one-shot contest.
My non-eagerness for the upcoming event weighs my head with thoughts of wanting to sleep, eat, masterbate, and take shameful screenshots of careless girls who post their pictures online for the use of art references.
I take a giant sip from one of my beers.
"Aah... At least there's going to be beer."
For me, beer has been the confidence booster missing from the majority of my life. When you're as lonely and pathetic as I am, drinking beer is all you ever do throughout long nights of typing up chapters and illustrating semi-erotic illustrations of your female characters. So much so, I gained an unaturally high tolerance to alcohol, aside from the confidence booster effect. The only thing preventing me from gaining a beer gut is my naturally high metabolism. Then again, it doesn't do much except leave me to be the wimpy, soft twig I am.
There should be enough beer to drink so I can have the confidence to stand in front of everyone and announce the awards. A better alternative then doing it sober and passing out on stage due to anxiety.
As my TV displays an ecchi scene from an anime, albeit censored, I pour the remainder of my beer into my noodle cup. Thus, creating a weird yet oddly satisfying concoction of microwaved noodles and gas station beer. I slurp the noodles while my eyes are fixated on the screen, not wanting the sight of my beer can to block my view of the TV.
I wish moments like these can last forever... But, of course, I still have a life to live whether I like it or not.