Lookism: What Am I Even Doing?

Hello Truck-Kun

Ever since I was in elementary school I wondered if there was something wrong with me. The other kids in the class would sometimes come and stare at me like if I were alien. Could it be real? Its eats and breaths like we do so it must be real. So why does it act so strange?

I didn't think of my behavior strange until the fourth grade when I got caught daydreaming during a game of hide & seek. Up until then I thought it was normal for us to create vast worlds in our minds. To be led by our imaginations. When I told that little girl I was playing with the pictures in my head.

They started calling me crazy. I was weird for living inside of my mind. But doesn't everyone life that way? Caught up in our wild imaginations? Isn't that we come across innovation? By being brave enough to imagine?

The thing wasn't that I was creative. I think it was the stories I would create for myself that scared them. We had a writing contest in school once. While everyone struggled to get their thoughts onto the page I was finished with my very first short story. 

I was so proud of myself. Up to know everything that I've created never left my head but as I looked down at my journal, I felt like it was coming to life. Just thinking of having someone else experience the same joy as I do threw my heart in a frenzy. I confidently turned in my notebook that day expecting phrase only to have my confidence shattered.

From that day forward I never trusted anyone with what was inside of my head though people still walked up to me sometimes to snap me out of my trances. As I grew older I found comfort with others like me. Those of us who dove far too deep into our books, webtoons, and televisions series.

We all had our weird obsessions buts we found an understanding amongst each other. People would still look at us weird. I'm sure that some of my teachers thought it was a waste to have such beautiful minds turned to rot from obsessions'. 

It's true. Becoming to obsessive over something could be dangerous. But we didn't turn out this way because we wanted to. The world is a damaging place that hits you whenever it can without discrimination. Sometimes, after the blows some of us can't get up. Our prides our shattered along with the very will of our beings.

We have no one to turn to but ourselves. And we're not very nice people. So we hide in fantasy. As strange as if may seem to a lot of people these escapes are the only things keeping us together. If we were forced to live in the real world like everyone else most of us would be driven mad by the toxicity. Some of us would be dead.

So when I reached my Junior year I kind of learned to look away from everything. I mastered blurring out the real world with one of my own. It was a peaceful place where no one was allowed to enter. At times it was lonely but that's why we hook ourselves to certain stories, to certain characters. We need someone to talk to.

I know it sounds crazy but I needed it. I craved some sort of affection. Even if it were all fake. Real people were too spontaneous, too mean. At least this way the only person who could hurt me...was myself.

The last day of Junior year I made a promise to myself. That even though I found comfort in the characters in my head, I still needed to find a way to heal all of the broken inside of me. I was starting to find my little movies boring. They no longer even helped me fall asleep. I was fading into reality and if I didn't find a way to cope with it then I don't know what would happen. I didn't trust myself enough to want to find out.

So I took an usual route home. I walked through my usual neighborhoods but instead of turning left, I took a right. Heading straight towards the small strip of stores. They were mostly empty right now but they'll be open soon enough. As soon as I turned to the major street the cars started flooding in by the dozens.

The loud honking and smell of smoking gas started becoming to much. I felt like if I was suffocating with all of it. So I rushed into the nearest store which happened to be small gas station. The guy at the front gave me a look before looking down at his magazine.

Gas station prices were pretty steep but I should have enough from my last pay check to get me a little something. Texas weather was unbearably hot so an ice cream would be perfect. If they weren't so expensive that is. Instead I headed to the pack and grabbed a can of cold ice tea for a dollar. Please never change, my dear.

After I paid I was hoping to take a seat next to the lotto machines but the cashier kept on glancing at me. He was moving around a bit weirdly so I took the sign and let the man pee. I walked out the store with my cold tea in hand. Great, there's even more cars out.

Well, that was life changing enough. Why don't I just go home now? I turned around to leave but this weary old man appeared out of nowhere behind me. I let out a small yelp as he leaned into me. His wrinkled old face practically spilling onto the side walk.

He spoke in a language that I could barely recognize. Was that Korean? I couldn't really tell. All knowledge I have of the foreign language are K-pop songs that sometimes come on my playlist. I smiled at him kindly.

"I'm sorry. My parents are waiting for me at home."

I was about to leave when he grabbed me firmly by the arm. He kept on repeating the same phrase over and over again as I struggled from his grip. I looked around to see if anyone was going to help me but everyone was absorbed in their own little worlds. Cursing and lashing out at each other.

Finally I stomped on his foot and he let go. Not knowing what to do I ran with all my might towards home. Though, I never made it home. As soon as I crossed the road a very familiar scene came into my mind. A large truck with a small head and boxy body drove full speed towards me. I know I should've moved out the way or have screamed but I just stood there frozen.

How many times have I seen this play out? And how many times do they really survive? The ultimate killer of any anime. Truck-kun. A villain so powerful not even the power of friendship could overcome it. I just prayed that it wouldn't hurt too much.

Author's Note

No, I can't spell and I'm fully aware of that.