Tempokai

  Who sits alone in his room all day, watching television and pying video games. Who's too tired to even do that anymore; he just sleeps most nights. Who's never seen the sun, let alone been outside. A person who eats fast food for every meal, has no friends or family who will visit him. Who can't get out of bed without an arm clock going off at 6AM every morning. Who's had two jobs over the st five years but quit them both within months because he was so bored and unmotivated that it wasn't worth trying.

  He's got a lot of free time on his hands these days, and he's not getting any better at anything. His hobby of writing novels hasn't gotten him anywhere either. He's got three unfinished novels lying around the house. None of which are likely to ever be finished, much less published.

  He doesn't feel like doing anything, and he hates himself for it. Why? Because he knows if he were more motivated, he could do something with his life instead of wasting away. But there is literally nothing he wants to do. And everything he wants to do would require motivation and effort, which he cks.

  If he could die right now, he would. If he could kill himself right now, he'd do it. But he can't do that. So he'll just continue living this pathetic brief existence until the world ends. That'll be a relief. No one will have to deal with his depressing shit anymore.

  But until then...

  Well, what else is there for him to do? He's already tried everything. 24 years of his life and nothing. Nothing. All he's done is fail at things he didn't really try hard at, anyway.

  He tries to motivate himself by thinking about how much easier life would be without all his problems, but that only works for a few minutes before his brain tells him "You don't actually think your problems aren't real, do you?"

  Then he tells himself that if he succeeded at anything, he wouldn't have any reason to live anymore. But that's just as bad as his other self-pitying thoughts.

  His escape from reality is a constant stream of mindless entertainment. He spends hours each week watching movies, shows, anime, reading books, listening to music, and pying video games. Anything that isn't thought provoking and doesn't require effort. Isekai stories are his favorite genre. It gives him a false sense of purpose: the protagonist gets transported into another universe where they're stronger and cooler than they normally are, and suddenly their problems seem insignificant compared to the challenges they've overcome. Self inserting characters also help. The main character is always strong and cool and smart and successful and popur and handsome and perfect and everything else he wishes he could be, so it makes him feel better about himself.

  The problem is, none of those stories are true. They're fantasies, created by people who enjoy creating stories about themselves overcoming impossible odds. Which means they're all lies. There are no such things as invincible heroes. Everyone dies eventually.

  And he feels worse about himself for enjoying fictional stories when he can't find the strength to make his own dreams come true.

  In fiction, everyone succeeds at everything they set out to accomplish. In reality, people fail at everything. People die. The people lose their families. People suffer horrible tragedies and still survive somehow. Like how 30% of a popution in poverty, 20% of the homeless, and 15% of the unemployed hold down a job somewhere. Or how someone with schizophrenia holds down a job somewhere. How someone with a serious mental illness like depression holds down a job somewhere. Just to keep the cog turning.

  It's easy to tell yourself "Oh, they overcame adversity" or whatever, but when you see it in action, you realize how much courage and determination and hope and sacrifice must have gone into making it happen. The reverse? You might hear a story about a mentally ill person killing themselves after struggling with their symptoms for decades, and you realize how fragile we are, how easily our lives can fall apart, and how much courage and determination and hope and sacrifice it took for them to stay alive long enough to reach the end.

  We know these people exist, but we rarely talk about them. We pretend they don't. We hide them behind walls and call it progress. But hiding the truth doesn't change reality. Reality remains unchanged. Even the state propaganda, which hides bad between two yers of good, won't save us from ourselves forever.

  People like him exist everywhere. Not just here in the US. Every country has them. Every nation has them. Even some of the wealthiest nations in the world have them.

  They're everywhere, and they're miserable. And they need help, because they can't fix themselves. And society needs to accept that fact. Society needs to stop pretending that all problems can be solved with money. When that money is on hands of corrupt politicians and bureaucrats and CEOs, well, it won't solve anything.

  Just ask yourself. If the engaged democracy was the right way to govern people, why are there so many countries that have been governed by authoritarian regimes for generations? Why are there so many dictatorships? Why do so many countries have monarchies?

  Because no matter how democratic a government may cim to be, if its leaders are corrupt, power hungry, and willing to use violence and intimidation to maintain control, then the system is fwed. Power corrupts absolutely.

  There's no such thing as a perfect system of governance. There's no such thing as a perfect form of government. And there is nothing called self sustainability. There is no such thing as an economy that grows perpetually, and there is no such thing as a natural resource that cannot run out someday. Everything has limits. Some sooner than others.

  Humans are imperfect. God made us so that we would never be content with the status quo. He gave us freedom of choice, and he gave us free will, and he gave us the ability to make mistakes. Because he knew that if he created us to be happy and safe and comfortable and secure, we would never grow.

  But some renounced those words and chose instead to cling onto them like a lifeline.

  Some renounced the idea of personal responsibility and embraced victimhood.

  Some renounced the idea of free will and embraced determinism.

  Some renounced the idea of achievement and embraced mediocrity.

  Some renounced the idea of happiness and embraced misery.

  Some renounced the idea of success and embraced failure.

  Generation of baby boomers that have grown up with entitlement mentality

  They believe they deserve everything.

  But what they don't understand is that everything is not given freely to anyone.

  You earn it.

  Every single thing.

  From your first breath.

  To every moment you spend alive.

  Everything you get is earned.

  If you don't like something, work to change it. Take initiative and put in effort. But no, they stole from him, with taxes and regutions and ws, and now he's forced to give it back.

  He doesn't want to give it back. He doesn't want to work to pay for someone else to live. He wants to live for himself, and not for others. Yet, he can't. Because of all the ws and rules and regutions and taxes and fees and fines, he had to pay for himself and his family and his community and his society and his world.

  So he doesn't even try to improve his situation. He doesn't want to. He'd rather compin and bme other people for his problems, and do nothing.

  That's how he justifies his ziness. He justified his apathy by saying that. His depression, which he refuses to address head on, is justified.

  His parents taught him to be zy and entitled and irresponsible. They taught him he doesn't have to do anything. He doesn't have to succeed or achieve anything. And when he followed those words, they ridiculed him, saying that when they were in his age decades ago, they had to struggle and do everything for themselves.

  He doesn't remember that. He only remembers his parents telling him he didn't have to do anything, he was special just for being born, and everyone should treat him like a king. He believed it at first, until he learned about the internet, which showed him how much better off he is compared to all the other people of the world, who are suffering so much more than him, who are living in poverty and dying of starvation and disease and war and genocide.

  Well, that's for another day. Let's move on.

  When he grew older, he realized that life wasn't as easy as he thought it was growing up. It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. And when he tried to make something of himself, he failed miserably. When he tried again, he failed worse.

  And he bmed all the surrounding people. "I could have succeeded if I were surrounded by smarter people who were more motivated and talented." "I could have done better if I were in a more competitive environment."

  But inside, he bmed himself.

  He bmes himself for not trying hard enough. For not working harder. For not trying to be more likeable and charming and funny and smart and rich.

  He bmes himself for not having enough ambition. He remembers his first dream, a dream he abandoned before he could realize it, a dream he didn't have the courage to pursue. A dream that he didn't think he could accomplish, anyway. But it's still there, and he knows it will always be there. Like a demon, lurking in the dark corners of his mind, waiting for a chance to whisper, "What if you could have done better?"

  But what if you could have done better?

  Well, what's stopping you?

  Try again, you fucker. Try one more time. What's the worst that can happen?

  The worst that can happen?

  You might fail. You might lose everything.

  You might fail, but at least you'll die knowing you gave everything you've got. Like your ancestors that survived the Great Depression. You'll have no regrets. No shame. Nothing to regret.

  You might fail, but at least you'll die with no secrets. Like your grandparents that lived through the Second World War.

  Kill yourself.

  You might fail, but at least you won't have any debt. Like your great-grandparents that fought in the Civil War.

  You might fail, but at least you won't have any children to inherit your problems. It all will go to your more successful retives. Better off dead than alive and a burden on your family.

  You might fail, but at least you won't have any obligations left behind. It will all go to someone else. Someone else who deserves it more than you.

  NO. NO! I DON'T WANT TO DIE.

  ***

  "No. I won't let it happen," said the protagonist, determined to overcome his depression and lead a better life than ever before. "It has to be me. I'm the only one who can help myself. The only way to change my circumstances is for me to change them. So it's up to me to overcome this obstacle. Not run away from it. Or deny it. But confront it head on. Face it with courage and determination. Do whatever it takes to find a solution."

  "Yeah, I know how it feels when you're drowning in shit. You know how much courage it took for me to get out of that hole? How much determination? How much hope and belief that things will get better? How much courage I had to keep going when every step forward seemed so difficult? I gave up from the race, but not from life. I was down, but not out. And you know how much courage and determination it took for me to turn things around? How much hope and belief in myself it required for me to make that choice? Zero. None. Not even one percent. All those times when I felt like giving up? Every time I wanted to give in, but kept fighting?

  Every single time, I was fighting for myself. For my purpose in life. My reason for existence. For a future I want to see come true. And if there's anyone out there who needs help, if there's anything I can do to make their lives easier?"

  His unreasonable side riled up, and scorned him for daring to hope for something good to happen someday, instead of accepting the fact that life is unfair and miserable, and that's how it is forever, and there's no point to hope or believe for anything beyond surviving for as long as possible.

  His reasonable side reminded him of how he used to feel when he was younger, how he used to be so full of energy and motivation and passion, and how he used to want so badly to change the world with his own hands, to leave something good behind him after he died. His love for isekai stories was the driving force that led him to write his own story.

  But he never finished writing his story. He never completed it. He never published it. He never made a difference. He never changed the world.

  His inner demon, himself, told him to stop dreaming. To accept his fate. To resign himself to his misery.

  But his reasonable side knew he couldn't do that. He couldn't accept defeat. He couldn't give up. He was too stubborn. Too persistent. Too passionate. He wouldn't let his demons win. Not even if he had no other choice. He knew there was a way. He just didn't know how to solve the problem yet.

  And so, he stopped living. He shut off from the rest of the world. He became reclusive. He turned into a hermit. He refused to socialize. He avoided people at all costs, because he knew they would ridicule him and criticize him for not doing anything productive, for being zy, for failing at everything, and for not contributing anything meaningful or valuable to society.

  He knew they would mock him. They would call him names. They would insult him and belittle him and degrade him and humiliate him. And he knew he deserved it.

  And his reasonable side was crushed under all of their weighty expectations and judgmental eyes and heavy expectations.

  They didn't understand how hard it was for him. And so they ridiculed him for not being strong enough, for not having the willpower and discipline to overcome his depression and achieve greatness, despite how impossible it all is.

  So he retreated. He closed himself off from everyone around him. He ignored the outside world. He ignored his family and his friends and his loved ones. He refused to acknowledge his responsibilities and duties.

  He found a remote job where nobody could bother him. He quit his career and became a freencer, because he didn't have the strength to work for someone else anymore. He didn't have the willpower to do it anymore. He didn't have the ambition to do it anymore.

  Burnout is real. It's a thing that peoples who are pushed past their limits. And he was pushed beyond his limit. He burned himself out trying to live up to the standards of others. He burnt himself out trying to prove that he's worthy of having a better life than everyone else. He burnt himself out, trying to be better than everyone else. But in the end, he realized that he's just human, and he's only one person. He's only one person against all these other people who have so much more talent and ability than him, and he can't compete with them. So why should he even try? Why should he even try at all?

  Why should he try at all?

  ***

  "What are you talking about?" asked his wife, confused and upset by the sudden change in topic. He was rambling and writing about the depressed man who doesn't care anymore and wants to die. She didn't expect him to talk about such depressing topics.

  She tried to calm him down, but his unreasonable side riled up again, and mocked him for trying to help others. He was a psychologist. He could help people. That's what he did for a living. If there were any problems in the world, he could fix them by analyzing and diagnosing them properly. But how could he possibly fix his own depression, which he struggled with for years now? She barely contained herself, and she said nothing else.

  But he continued anyway, ignoring her attempts to calm him down. "He doesn't have the willpower to continue living. He doesn't have the courage. Why? WHY? Because he doesn't want to."

  He had nothing to say back. It's true that he didn't have any willpower or courage. But that's because he didn't want to.

  Enlightenment. The protagonist finally understood what's been holding him back for so many years. He understood that the root cause of his depression was the ck of self-awareness. That's what prevented him from overcoming his depression.

  Does he truly knows himself? Does he know who he is? Does he know what makes him happy and what makes him sad? Did he ever try to find out? Is he aware of the things that bring meaning to his life? He followed the advice of his parents. He followed the advice of his teachers. He listened to what the internet said. But does he really know himself, inside and out?

  Did he try hard enough to find out? Absolutely yes. He tried. He tried every single day. Nevertheless, it wasn't enough.

  Is there anyone in his life who knows him inside out and understands him completely? No, there isn't. There weren't any close family members who could help him. So he looked up on the internet, about lucid dreaming, and he tried it out. It helped a little. It helped a lot. It made him realize that there's a whole new world waiting for him if he could just enter it. His subconscious mind gave him a glimpse of his true potential. If only he could figure it out.

  Even so, it wasn't enough. And it never will be.