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MidReal Story
Outlaw Serenity
Scenario:Living in a world that doesnt make sense and feeling lost and alone amongs a crowd of people christian can help but wonder what the suffering is for in this life and why corruption is allowed at the top but at the bottom its a whole nother story
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Christian Thompson
He is a disillusioned observer of life, grappling with existential questions. He is introspective, skeptical, and contemplative. Christian struggles to find meaning in a world that seems chaotic and corrupt. He feels disconnected from others and grapples with the idea that suffering may be inherent to human existence. Despite his feelings of isolation, he occasionally encounters people who share his sense of discontent, providing him with fleeting moments of connection and validation.
Ben
He is a fellow outsider who occasionally crosses paths with Christian, sharing similar feelings of discontent with modern society. He is skeptical, restless, and frank. Ben frequently expresses his frustration with the state of the world and actively seeks meaningful conversations with likeminded individuals. His straightforwardness provides Christian with an outlet for his own frustrations and a glimmer of hope for finding purpose beyond mundane routines.
Jasmine
She is a compassionate and empathetic individual who occasionally connects with Christian through shared moments of disillusionment. She is understanding, reflective, and gentle. Jasmine frequently encounters Christian in public places, and they engage in brief conversations that provide each other with a sense of companionship. Her presence and genuine interest in talking about life's challenges offer Christian a rare sense of comfort and validation in his existential struggles.
I don't know if it's a lie or not, but I've heard that the world is a reflection of ourselves.
If that's true, then why is there so much suffering in this world?
Is it because we're all secretly miserable and we don't know how to escape our own hells?
Or perhaps it's because we're all too scared to look within ourselves and confront the demons that we try so hard to keep hidden.
Maybe the reason why there's so much corruption at the top is because there's just as much corruption at the bottom.
Perhaps we're all just too afraid to admit our own faults, so instead we point fingers at others and blame them for the problems in our lives.
I don't know what the truth is.
All I know is that life doesn't make sense.
It never has and it never will.
The only thing that has ever made sense to me is death.
Death is clear and simple.
It's an end to the suffering, the pain, and the chaos.
But even death is tainted by society's stupidity.
We mourn the deaths of those that we love, but we also celebrate the deaths of our enemies.
I sit here in my dimly lit apartment, staring at the news headlines on my computer screen.
Another corporation has been found guilty of embezzlement and tax evasion.
I shake my head as I read the article.
I wonder how many other corporations are doing the same thing.
I wonder how many people are being hurt by this.
I wonder how many people know about this and are just turning a blind eye to it.
I open up a new tab on my computer and start writing a blog post.
It's an anonymous blog, so I don't have to worry about anyone finding out that it's me who's writing it.
The only problem is that I'm not sure what I want to write about.
I've been writing this blog for years now, and it's always been about exposing the truth and bringing down corrupt corporations and governments.
But now, I'm not sure if that's enough anymore.
Maybe it's time for me to take things to the next level.
Maybe it's time for me to expose the corruption that's closest to me. I start typing furiously, letting all of my anger and frustration flow onto the page.
But then I stop mid-sentence.
I can't do this.
I can't expose the corruption that's closest to me because I'm a part of it too.
I'm just as guilty as everyone else.
I've lied, I've cheated, I've stolen, and I've hurt people.
Who am I to judge others when I'm just as bad as they are?
I close my laptop and walk over to my bookshelf.
I pull down a journal and sit down on my couch with it.
I open it up and start writing.
"I've lied more times than I can count," I write.
"I've cheated on every test that I've ever taken. I've stolen money from my parents' wallets. And I've hurt people more times than I care to admit."
As I write these words, a wave of hypocrisy washes over me. How can I expose others for their corruption when I'm just as corrupt as they are?
How can I judge others for their actions when I've done the same things myself?
The answer is simple: I can't. But does that mean that we should just let everyone get away with whatever they want?
Does that mean that we should just turn a blind eye to all of the corruption in this world?
No, of course not. But what does that mean for me?
What does that mean for my blog?
"Maybe it means you need to start with yourself," a voice interrupts my thoughts, and I look up to see my friend Alex standing in the doorway.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, startled by their sudden appearance.
"I came to remind you that change starts from within, and maybe it's time you stop hiding behind that anonymous blog and start being honest with yourself."
I stare at the pages of my journal, each one filled with admissions of my own moral failings.
Alex sits silently next to me, waiting for me to make my decision.
Finally, I open up my laptop and log into the admin panel for my blog.
My fingers hover over the keyboard as I contemplate what I'm about to do.
The familiar interface of my blog looks different now, more threatening.
I take a deep breath and start typing.
"Before I continue exposing others, I need to expose myself," I write.
My hands shake as I type out my first confession: how I stole money from my previous employer and blamed it on a coworker who was struggling financially.
I remember the look on his face when he was fired, the devastation in his eyes when he realized that his livelihood had been taken away from him because of a lie.
I click the publish button and wait for the post to go live.
The blog post sits published on my screen, my confession now irreversibly public.
Alex reaches over and closes my laptop, pulling me away from the screen.
I've been obsessively checking for comments and messages, but so far, there's nothing.
Alex takes my hand and leads me to the kitchen table.
They pull out a notepad and pen, setting them in front of me.
"Let's start with your old coworker," they say, writing down his name on the paper.
I try to remember his address, but it's been so long since I've seen him.
Then I remember that I have access to all of the HR documents from when I worked at the company.
I can find his address there.
Alex writes down some steps: locate him, write a formal confession letter, offer to speak with our former employer to clear his name.
But I hesitate, feeling overwhelmed by the task ahead of me. Alex places their hand on mine and gently pushes the pen into my fingers.
"Your turn," they say.
My hands tremble as I scroll through years of archived work emails, searching for any trace of the HR files.
The laptop screen illuminates my face in the dark kitchen while Alex waits patiently across from me.
I find an old thread about employee records and click on it, downloading a few attachments.
My heart races as I scan the list of names, finally spotting the familiar personnel file.
I open it and scan the pages until I find what I'm looking for: his last known address, dated five years ago.
I write it down carefully, double-checking each number as I scribble it onto the notepad.
This piece of paper represents my first real step toward redemption.