The story of life is not something that has an end. Beliefs aren’t born on a whim, and the truth is that even after death, life goes on.
What was my story? My life? A nightmare. Everything I wanted to do, I couldn’t. Every person I wished to be with left me. I was afraid of being alone, and yet I was alone all along. My fantasy wasn’t to be the main character, just a normal one—the one who isn’t hated.
I wonder what my next life will be like. Will it be a manifestation of my fantasy, or the result of my karma in the last one? If it’s the latter, I believe that I, for one, deserve heaven.
Whatever life I get, it doesn’t really matter to me. All I want in this life is not to be a target of hatred, not to be left alone, and definitely not to be used like a slave.
However, I don't think that living a rather peaceful life is going to be possible in this world.
