Dressing up in cute clothes.
Being praised as cute.
Being complimented as cute.
Ever since I can remember, I’ve loved it. Because it doesn’t make anyone unhappy.
But there’s no one at home. I have neither a mother to sympathize with me, nor a father to guide me. There was nothing that could be called a ‘family’, and in contrast, I had a lot of free time.
I want to be complimented as cute.
But, I’m not complimented by those around me.
A desire for self-approval and a dilemma overflowing in reality.
The place I arrived at to escape from that was the world of the internet.
It wasn’t that I had someone I looked up to. It wasn’t that I had an ideal image of myself.
There was no destination from the start. I just wanted someone to watch me.
My instincts craved the existence of someone who would accept me.
I, who tried to be acknowledged as cute, was treated as a heretic and ostracized as I grew older. As a refuge for myself, the internet was the perfect place. A warm place that accepts diversity and fills my loneliness. A free space where no one could blame me.
The internet, which filled the void of reality, held a new world, and as time passed, the number of people seeking a place to belong gradually increased. A place where people could connect, even if they weren’t by each other’s side.
By placing myself there, I could obtain a sense of euphoria that couldn’t be found in reality.
And yet—I wonder why.
At some point, the sea of praise became a giant sediment, and before I knew it, the rug was pulled out from under my feet.
If there were gears that embodied human emotions, I think they must have misaligned and gone mad somewhere. I was a fool for not noticing the grinding. Perhaps that’s all it was.
The miniature garden I had finally built was trampled and ruined by malice wearing the guise of goodwill.
Where is my place in this world?
Where is the way to protect it?
With a single click, you can get anything; with a single button, you can judge others; with a single word, you can connect with the world; and without a single change in expression, you can belittle others. They unilaterally throw distorted affection, never doubting it will be accepted, and the moment they learn it won’t be granted, they flip their hand and spew voices of resentment.
Ah, someone—.
Someone, help me.