Ever since I was a child, my parents haven't been there for me.
Either they were busy with work or busy with my siblings.
I don't know what the difference is between me and them; racially, we look the same. I asked one day, of course not knowing there are things I'm not supposed to ask, so the outcome wasn't pretty.
Anyway, regardless, I listened to them—paying attention to studies or avoiding hanging out, as they said it was a bad influence. I did try to do well in my studies.
Though I wasn't praised despite my efforts to get high marks, I wasn't called a useless child—at least not until they forgot my achievements the very next day.
And my friends... I didn't have any friends.
Either they assumed I was a cactus, too prickly to be touched, or I was water, too different to mix and integrate.
I can't blame them; I didn't have much to talk about.
Well, aside from not having an opportunity to speak beyond pleasantries at home, I didn't have much interest in most topics.
What's the point of entertainment if you see it at home?
What's the point of news from a faraway land if no one cares about what happens in their surroundings, to the people around them?
Then again, my interest was always centered on the household, so my viewpoint might be too narrow for the norm.
And about hobbies... hmmm... I don't have any.
Couldn't get a musical instrument, and if I tried to sing or dance, my throat would hurt or something else would ache.
The household wasn't tolerant of audible noise created by moi... so yeah.
Though if you consider watching pornography (with no sound), playing online dating sims (with no sound), and reading romance web novels a hobby, then I suppose I have hobbies.
Now, you're probably wondering why the fuck I'm monologuing to myself when I'm supposed to pray for a quick recovery after getting hit by a truck while reading a new web novel?
Either your attention span is shorter than a newborn's, or you're innocent like a child—which, to be honest, I envy.
Anyway, I'm just too bored and wallowing in self-pity as much as I can with you, aka myself.
Maybe it's considered crazy, but I know my condition and use this as my coping mechanism to keep myself in check.
Still, it's the first time I'm talking to myself in a void-like surrounding, feeling like I'm in a lucid dream.
...
I'm not surprised it's a void though...
...
Yup, my common sense is kicking in, so I hope this dream ends soon.
The faster I get back to my IRL, the less terrible I'll feel about myself.
...
"Your line is secured, my lord and lady. The heavens smile upon your house this day."
...
And... why am I seeing a woman lifting me up like I'm as light as a baby?