Fiction Character 1.0

"I want to sail away from here," Otherside by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis.

As he sits there typing on his MacBook Pro, his head is frantically looking for something to say, something meaningful, something truthful, something inspiring. But he isn’t feeling very inspired himself. He asks himself, “why do I want to write?” and the answer slaps him in the face: he doesn’t know.

He likes the idea of writing. Of people being able to get a glimpse of what is going on in his head. For what purpose, he’s not fully aware. It might be that he feels that writing could relieve his stress. He’s been feeling emotionally unstable of late. That is, if the past year can qualify for “of late”. It might also be that  he feels that letting other people read his thoughts would inspire other people to greatness. He admits that he is by no means great,but people seem to think that he is worth watching and listening to, thus he would like to reveal to people that any Muhammad or Atiqah could be twice as successful as he is, if what he is can be considered a success.

Or maybe it’s just for the ego trip that he gets when he receives feedback from people. He’s fully aware that his English is head and shoulders above the majority of those who use it as a second language and people tweet that his English is so fluent, they want to be like him, they want him to teach them how to be like him. Maybe that’s it.

But it’s not.

He hates the notion of people trying to be him. He knows himself. He sucks. As a teacher. As a writer. As a friend. As a family member. As a human being. He sucks.

And he is always intrigued by the idea that people actually think highly of him. Or maybe it’s disgust. Paralyzing disgust. Disgust in himself that he is still able to sleep at night and smile when he is awake and allow people to sing his praise. It’s disgusting how much he allows people to be deluded into thinking that he is a righteous person with very little flaws to show. And him? A role model? Please.

If people were actually like him, there would be a lot more cynical people in the world. Fake smiles would be plastered onto their faces while sarcastic remarks form in their heads. People would be sad all of the time, without really knowing why. People would be tired, and hate having to live through another day. People would be emotional. People would be judgmental. Most of all, people would be insincere. 

But they won’t do good deeds for money. No, much too “surface” for this type of human. That would be way too easy to judge, and he’s not anything if he’s not afraid of judgement. Or rather, negative judgement. He has to be seen as a flawless human being, a model citizen. The example for Muslims, or even human beings in general. Because he’s full of himself like that. Because he needs to be seen as a superior person.

So he puts on a mask for everyone to see. What he thinks everyone should see. The bright side. The smiles. The happiness. The righteousness. The motivation. The optimism. And right behind that mask rots the depression. The downright cynicism. The bitterness. The pessimism. The hypocrisy.

So he doesn’t want people to be like him. Because that’s too messed up. Even for him. I suffer alone is his mantra. Other people are too good for him. 

He still likes the idea of writing though. But why, he can never really say.