Like every kid in my world I did thought to be a Hero. An omnipotent guy blessed with the words of god himself. I: A boy with unlimited, incalculable supernatural powers. The difference between those boys and me is simple. Now that they are successful people with good jobs or pursuing higher education, I still think of me like that, a superhuman, a non-earning being.
"To save peasants from their miseries, to help the needy, to protect the week, to annihilate the wicked" kind of comic book stuff was just a side business. The real dream was to be free, enjoy the life like a dream.
I imagine me flying through an alley surrounded by trees from both sides, like a bullet pierce though a jelly cake; soft and smooth. I felt cold winds combing my hair. The thought of ‘could do this’ is embedded in it which gives a thrilling and adventurous joy of excitement. You blush pointlessly as if you are in love. Everything in real life seems like easy and possible.
Parallel to this surreal world there is a (what people say) more substantial world. In that world this mind boggling fantasy and wish for being superhuman is just a fictional escape plan. They say “There is nothing in the life worth enjoying for so you develop a fancy idea that somehow out of the blue you’ll acquire extra abilities over the rest of the world which will free you from the self inflicted slavery of your miserable life, an easy escape without struggle and pain. This dream is a byproduct of fear and insecurity. You are too pathetic to get over it.”
The things said by the human of the real world are hurtful but correct. But then I think “who’ll decide what’s right and what’s wrong in this world? So uncertain and unconvinced”. Even if all things you say are true even then I chose to dream myself BEING SUPERNATURAL, BEING SUPERHUMAN.
"To save peasants from their miseries, to help the needy, to protect the week, to annihilate the wicked" kind of comic book stuff was just a side business. The real dream was to be free, enjoy the life like a dream.
I imagine me flying through an alley surrounded by trees from both sides, like a bullet pierce though a jelly cake; soft and smooth. I felt cold winds combing my hair. The thought of ‘could do this’ is embedded in it which gives a thrilling and adventurous joy of excitement. You blush pointlessly as if you are in love. Everything in real life seems like easy and possible.
Parallel to this surreal world there is a (what people say) more substantial world. In that world this mind boggling fantasy and wish for being superhuman is just a fictional escape plan. They say “There is nothing in the life worth enjoying for so you develop a fancy idea that somehow out of the blue you’ll acquire extra abilities over the rest of the world which will free you from the self inflicted slavery of your miserable life, an easy escape without struggle and pain. This dream is a byproduct of fear and insecurity. You are too pathetic to get over it.”
The things said by the human of the real world are hurtful but correct. But then I think “who’ll decide what’s right and what’s wrong in this world? So uncertain and unconvinced”. Even if all things you say are true even then I chose to dream myself BEING SUPERNATURAL, BEING SUPERHUMAN.
