Ever since I experienced bouts of vomiting and diarrhea in the Long House, I am certain that I've gone somewhat mad. The entities lurking outside my house, the charred phantoms seeping through the walls, the mist rising from the depths of the ocean... These deep-seated, unheard-of fears buried within my genes began to seize me. What convinced me of my insanity is the certainty that these monsters never appeared in my memories, yet when they do appear, I attack with a pathological frenzy amidst my fear, only to calmly venture out for supplies the next day as if nothing had happened.
This has nothing to do with whether I was cowardly or brave before, but rather that in the face of unknown monsters, it is unnatural for someone to feel a euphoric mix of fear and wonder, with shrieks laced with sharp laughter.
But I then thought, perhaps only a self like this can survive in this miserable world rather than be torn apart and devoured by monsters.
