"I think that whenever I told her about my dream, she reacted reasonably well, always supporting me and such, but in the end, it didn't matter. I kept walking and encountered some monsters—deformed, dog-like creatures. I grabbed my steel pipe and waited for one of them to attack.
One of them barked at me and charged. I braced myself to strike just as it leaped, and I managed to hit it in the head; it hit the ground. I felt remorse for doing what had to be done, but I did it anyway. I struck it a few more times and waited for the other two to come at me.
For no apparent reason, those dogs reminded me of the liar I was back when I first met her. My fear of dying alone was massive; I wonder why I worried so much about it being so young. I'm 22—I shouldn't have been that desperate, I think.
I lied to her during the relationship too, but I guess everyone does that. I wanted my life back; actually, I want my life back. The dogs lunged, and I kept striking them, trying to dodge their attacks. The battle lasted a while until I finally managed to kill them.
I was exhausted, so incredibly tired. I lay on the ground and gasped for air for a few minutes. During that time, I reflected on this new world, on how I had fallen into a state of complacency.
I need to get out of here; it's the worst possible place to be. I want to go home.
The sky was heavily overcast; it looked as though night had already fallen.
I got up and ran toward my shelter.
I lay down and tried to sleep. Somehow, I felt her hugging me, and I pulled away.
I want to sleep far away from you, so let me go. Give me my life back; it's better if I'm
alone.
In this relationship of ours, the worst part was me.
I was the one who ruined everything.
I was the liar.
I was the one who made everything worse."
I created a version of myself that I could use to push her away, because that was all a useless person like me knew how to do.
…
I couldn't sleep properly for the rest of the night.
I decided I wouldn't leave the shack for the remainder of the day, ending up locked away with the past. It felt as if there were an entity with me, an anxiety watching me from the other side. He had a shape; he was a man with the colors of Tame Impala's Currents album cover. I decided to call him Tame Impala—that will be his name.
— Good morning, Tame Impala!
— Good morning, Woojin! How are you?
— Not very well, you know how it is... getting used to a new world and all that.
— Ah, I know exactly how that feels.
— Since you're here, what exactly are you?
— Me? Well, I am a monster that stalks the anxious. If there is anxiety nearby, I'll be there. As you said, I resemble the Currents album by the artist Tame Impala.
— So you're not just a figment of my imagination?
— Of course not. I am real.
— How can I know you're real?
— I have my own feelings and emotions.
— Really?
— Really.
He pointed his finger at my head.
— Right now, I feel extremely anxious. I don't want to just let my life happen; I don't want the process, only the moments of happiness. If I don't have that, then my anxiety will just go on and on. Do you understand?
— I understood...
I looked down and saw his purple ink with white stripes dripping onto the floor, as if something inside him was about to explode.
— How strange...
— What's strange?
— Nothing.