I have always loathed war. I could never accept the act of a social collective known as a “nation” massacring the people of another country based on the decisions of a few representatives. Formally, these representatives are supposed to embody the will of their citizens. Yet, those who die in war are not necessarily connected to such political maneuvers. When I say “not necessarily,” I do not mean they are entirely unrelated. In any nation or social group, political activities are conducted through the decisions of a few representatives, and the lives of the citizens are built upon these activities. War erupts when these political maneuvers collide with those of another nation.
In the modern era, the political actions of most countries are interconnected; it is rare for one nation’s actions to have no impact on others. This means that the political conduct of many countries harbors the danger of triggering the unforgivable act of war. It was within this climate that I was born at the end of the 20th century. I have hated war since I was a child. Beyond the reasons mentioned above, there was another: I was a prophet. I could foresee when war would break out. But was that foresight truly a prophecy? Amidst all the predictions being made, I could not discern whether it was true foresight or a form of linguistic induction.
Having lived for over 36 years, I have reached a certain conclusion regarding this “prophecy.” Ultimately, my foresight is both a prophecy and an induction. My senses are too sharp; I pick up on every minute phenomenon. This created a paradox: while I can grasp things that no one else can through my senses, I often miss the things that most people easily obtain. Sharp senses capture an overwhelming number of events. However, what a human can truly gain through their senses is limited. One cannot harbor everything within oneself. I discarded what most people could pick up. Instead, I sought what most people could not obtain. I believed my mission was to let others gather what was common and for me to gather what they could not. I felt that therein lay my raison d’être.
However, this led me to undervalue the things that most people can obtain. People gather common things not just because they are easy to get, but because they are necessary. Conversely, things that most people cannot grasp are often left behind not just because they are difficult to reach, but because they are troublesome to handle. They might be valuable, or they might have no value at all.
Nevertheless, I continued to pick up what others could not. It was the only way I could find meaning in my existence. People call me a poseur, a misanthrope, or an eccentric who just wants to be different. In truth, I was simply praying for the survival of more people by taking the lead in gathering what others could not. Their lack of understanding was my miscalculation. To gather what others cannot is, in itself, something that invites envy. From my perspective, such jealousy is nothing but simplistic, but for them, it is different.
No one lives alone. This is true for every level of society, from the individual to the collective. From the lonely to the social, everyone lives with some form of connection, regardless of the degree. There is no such thing as a person with no connections at all. Perhaps war does not occur because we have too many connections, but because we begin to undervalue the very existence of those connections.
