Higher

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On a morning such as this one, you would see a girl running an extra mile to keep a few pounds off, the heat of the activity saving her the effort of throwing on thick clothes. On such a fine afternoon where the soft rays of the sun is filtered by clouds, you will stop by the side of the road to gaze into the sea. When the winter breeze blows like this, you would think of the warmth of your home as you head home from work, a small grocery bag in your hands. As soon as you exit the convenience store, open 24/7, the lights and music of Christmas spirit will serve to remind you that another year is ending.

You probably wish you could have done better.

In a dog's eyes, the whole world is simply a maddening circus of flashing lights and extravagantly loud noises, where one person who had big dreams could be nothing more than another face in the crowd when he finished his metamorphosis. The owner tugs on its leash. They walk away.

What would an uncaring mother do if her child began to cry in the sidewalk, tripping over something as unassuming as her own shoelaces?

a) Leave the child be. It's not her business.
b) Scold the child. It's causing a commotion.
c) Simply drag it away. It'll stop soon enough.

She would probably have these choices, and yet she wouldn't do any of them. Instead, she would encircle the letter of the answer that was not on the paper in the first place. She would pick letter D, which was scribbled onto the sheet by the feeling of moral obligation she felt upon seeing an attractive businessman look her way.

d) Comfort the child. She deserves the love of a parent.

That's what she does, and despite the fact that she doesn't really want the child, this moment of self-deception manages to convince her that she's loved her mistake ever since, even after her husband left her for someone who had more cash than herself. Or was it just now? What if there were other moments of deception she had issued unto herself? Or what if her hatred was fabricated, and this event simply served to trigger the innate affection she has for her only daughter? She doesn't think about it. She chose option D.

If only we were all as uncaring as this mother, we wouldn't have to think about when, why, what, who, where, and how. If we simply believed the lie that was most convenient, we wouldn't have to struggle.

If a boy walks down the isolated road sipping a can of cola despite the cold weather, snow crunching under his shoes, what would be in his mind? There are quite a few options. Would he be thinking of the comfort under the kotatsu at home? Would he be thinking of dinner? Would he be thinking of how a girl from school passed by the shop where he worked part-time? It honestly depends. What would you know? You don't even know what he's wearing, where he lives, or if he actually has a part-time job. Or how old he is. Or what he told his mom this morning, or if he even does have a mother. You know absolutely nothing, and yet you pretend you have even a faint inkling of his identity.

Are you thinking about it yet? How wide the world is, how absolutely insignificant you are in a place of many, many broken dreams.

It was silly of a mere boy to think he could stand on top of the tallest building and tell everyone that he existed. Even as his mangled body lies cold in the snow, blood oozing from his split skull, there are only about a hundred people who have heard his song. The flashing red and blue lights drown among a million more yellows and greens as the whole world celebrates the evening before Christmas. The sirens and chatters are muffled by the wall that separates festivity and reality, and the soulless eyes that now stare up at the evening sky as the body is loaded into a stretcher, are left unseen by the 'everyone' that they had hoped to reach out to.

What was he even hoping for?

Redemption? Liberation? Repentance? What was this, an abject presentation of unworthy helplessness, or a freak show wherein he makes fun of the gods who apparently blessed him with a beating heart? Was it folly, or insanity? Or was it enlightenment?