Akira Park and The Black Book (1)

In his sleep, Akira's vision was shrouded in darkness. He moved his hands, then groped his arms around but he couldn't see anything, he couldn't take another step, he couldn't feel anything other than the nothingness. Another pair of his own eyes were watching his unknowing figure at a distance. Somewhere on a ground he couldn't see. When he saw himself turn to look he woke up with a cold sweat.

Sitting up on his bedside, Akira's lamp was bright on his desk. Did he leave it on last night? Didn't Akira turn it off before bed? Whatever. But then he saw the Black Book completely still and open being lighted by the lamp. He slowly leaned backwards with a growing frown. Cautiously, he distanced himself from the Book not long after coming close to see . . . text. A new chapter he's never seen before.

"5/10/21" Akira reluctantly sat down to try reading on. "It's still May 9, Sunday of the year 2021," Akira thought. Looking at his calendar May 10 was tomorrow; Monday. He looked at the clock and it was 6:38 AM.

"I was supposed to write yesterday." he read with furrowed brows. "I had things on my mind I wanted to express. I am talented but I doubt it. I am competent but I'm not. I'm aware that the world is dying slowly, paying not much attention to itself, as it's headed for its own doom. I dislike that I can't do much of anything as an individual for this world. Even though I obviously can. I know that, but I don't.

"—The human mind is such a paradox. It's so fucking simple, yet so damn confusing but complicated at the same time.

"The nation I live in doesn't have much influence on others and has little power that can't even be compared to the United States, Russia and other non-third world countries much more equipped with high grade technology, economy, and so and so. Therefore I don't have much opportunities, and our government doesn't seem adequate enough for being able to give such opportunities to others like me.

"Because we aren't powerful, the seemingly more viable option is: to wait until those "powerful" countries and people make up their minds to solve the floods, earthquakes and forest fires destroying our homes and fellow people; to solve the storms and climate crises that result from companies prioritizing income over general welfare and our own inactions to protest against it being practically invisible to them; to work with other persons capable of providing insight and opportunities, so that we may live in a better world of which you, me, our friends, families, and loved ones can live comfortably and well.

"I know there's SOMETHING I could do, there always is. I'm just afraid that what I've been doing doesn't have much of an impact to other individuals. The things I wrote for my father, for the principal and my teachers, for my classmates and to myself. And maybe even to you. Did I only worsen things as I tried to convince them a problem—no, a CRISIS exists? That we should be acting now before it's too late? Is this even enough, even just for a little bit?

"I'm aware that Fiction can affect reality. It ignites and encourages certain ideologies that molds us into who we are—like childhood cartoons we used to watch or read which we may have been subtly influenced by. Or stories we come across once we get older that make us question just about everything. Makes us indirectly know about the world, through fiction that takes inspiration from reality. Fiction could maybe stir up revolutions and institutions, however positive or negative, like the film The Birth of A Nation whereupon its release popularized the return of the Ku Klux Klan (K.K.K) which is basically a group that wants African Americans er—essentially anyone with dark skin to return as slaves under white people again. Like it unfortunately used to. I guess these kinds of events reminds of inequality, which births discrimination and therefore awakening racism, and shit.

"Sigh. . . .There is this thing I have observed in Life, where everything always has to be a balance. If I was born with exceptional abilities but was consumed with ample self doubts and anxiety, I would be a balanced person, wouldn't I? If I was comforted with bountiful riches in childhood but experienced depression and agony in later years, my life would have been balanced, wouldn't it? But what if I had the ego and also the insecurities? What if I had the talent and intelligence but also the lack thereof? What if I was everything, and also I was nothing? What if I constantly degraded myself in hopes to find this perfect balance where Life could compensate "fairly" for me? What if I constantly fed my own ego because I knew I was impressive—FUCK! What if I did all of that for nothing? What if I was just a fool?

"What if my excessive self awareness left me more ignorant towards myself? (Augh, "StOp AsKiNg YoUrSeLf WhAt iFs!" says white knight; thus I say to you, "It's fucking convenient when I honestly want to know the answers instead of secretly denying such possibilities leading me to bring them up as questions in a meagre attempt to protect myself from them actually happening.") Why do I have to fit myself inside a box? Why do we only have one option in life? Do everything at once and you're cluttered, you'd be too intricate to even understand. Do nothing and you're bland, you've done nothing to be of good use to anyone, even to yourself. Do one thing and that's it. That is too unremarkable. You could have been more capable of doing more than just that. But there's always an exception. Of course there fuCking is. Whatever that exception might be, I'm consciously keeping myself away from it at this very moment. But I want the answers! I didn't ask to be kept away from it! Do I already have that fucking key inside me all along?!

"I feel dead again. I could try smiling to ignite positive inducing hormones and make myself feel better but knowing that only makes the process feel even more shallow inside. I have to walk to school and get the homework, pass the ones I've finished. Then do the homework by a schedule I made, to make me do them even less. Then wait till next week to repeat the process. I could do other things mean time. I've been trying to draw Akira in the best way I can so far, as a practice run for my animation's own illustrations."

Akira read that name again.

"Something's going to happen in a couple of days." Akira saw instead. "Be prepared, Akira Park."