《No Longer Alive》


 Chapter 0: The Book that changed ME

    I wonder what Dazai was thinking when he wrote No Longer Human. Why did he think he was no longer human? I have read this novel, very thoroughly and I like it more than I''ve liked any read. It is just that no matter how I try to look at it, I can''t seem to determine what made him no longer human. If anything, he seems more human to me than any other human I know. Perhaps it''s the generation gap, in which case I shall perhaps be looking to understand more about the world of back then instead of Dazai. Yet, all this time I have been looking at Dazai with all my attention. I''ve been staring into his eyes, into his soul and it mesmerizes me. It feels like I''m looking into a mirror. I can see why women fell for him so often. I would have, too.


    As a child, I was surrounded by "elders", the adults that know everything, they are always right. I don''t believe I was ever bothered by their knowledge and intrusions. When I think about my childhood, I can see a very entangled red thread, rough but strong, unwilling to break, unwilling to let go, and I''m somewhere in there, entangled too, in the countless knots. I was never a privileged kid, I wasn''t molded to complain and never taught to be stubborn. I was an obedient kid.


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    Its almost laughable because I can''t even imagine what that''d have been like. I can''t remember the feeling of what it was like back then when I was human, even though I''m sure there once was such a time.


    It is true, I''m not normal. Monster, vampire, crazy, alien, unreal, many many more...those are the things I''m used to being called. I don''t think I could be any more ordinary or normal but I''m clearly wrong.


    I had always known that this wasn''t a place where I belonged, this world, this "society"...what changed me?


    I wasn''t like this, I know. I don''t know. Perhaps carrying my weight on my own two feet has been a bit too much for me. That''s how weak and pathetic I am.


    I could understand Yozo, I could feel him even though I can''t seem to feel anything at all.


    Over the years, I have lost most of the human I had in me. It was my fault.


    I killed the man I loved.

 Chapter 1: Where It All Began

    Thinking back, I can''t quite point out where it all began and when or even how. My life before "this" is just a vague memory that fades away more and more every day. I remember the day I was consoling myself saying, "I can''t go back. This is for the best". Even then, I didn''t realize why my thoughts were spiraling into a mass of unknown.


    I envy Yozo in that matter. He knows the life he lived very well. He knows there could have been a difference. I can''t imagine any other life but the one I had.


    My family wasn''t doing too bad. We weren''t the richest folks and we lived in a small town but we were a famous bunch. We were the epitome of happiness, exactly what a family should be like. My father, back then, was a cop. An inspector, to be precise, and he was a big deal in town. His sense of heartless justice--not something he was famous for, but something I''d seen in him all too often-- earned him hatred in the years to come.


    I was a funny child. People couldn''t hold laughter around me. That was me, free-spirited, careless, innocent. Everyone loved teasing me, I''m a very teasable person. But no matter what anyone said, it never seemed to bother me. I didn''t cry much and I wasn''t a bratty kid. I don''t remember having many toys, some hand me downs from my siblings but nothing I was too crazy about. My childhood, as I would sum it up, was very normal. I was an intelligent kid, acting like a fool all the time. But at the end of it all, I was able to laugh with others.


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    In reality, I was seeking approval, a place to belong, every laugh, every jest was just a means to sate my thirst for attention. I wanted to be told that I was loved, that I was important.


    The adult world was easy, wrapped around my finger just like that. I had no problem deceiving anyone. Because I was innocent, I could be anything. I didn''t like it when others gossiped and lied, maybe because I felt that was all reserved for me. I really thought that everyone believed my deception. Only now...its a very subtle feeling of shame, quite hilarious too.


    I think back in the day, I had it all figured out. Yet when I look at it critically, I realize I haven''t changed at all. Did the little me feel the same? I can''t seem to recall.


    I keep questioning myself if that''s where it had all begun. Is "this" something I was born with? Or is it something I became on my own? Is "this" me?


    Yozo had the answer. It wasn''t the alcohol, it wasn''t the monster in his paintings either. It wasn''t the whores, nor the maids in his house. For Yozo, it all began with the lion mask.

 Chapter 2: I am weak

    I''ve always found Dazai to be a very strong man, though perhaps even he himself didn''t realize that. He expresses his uncertainty and incapability to understand women, and why women liked him so much. In his eyes, he was a fiend, a ''monster''. Be that as it may, he was hopelessly honest. I wouldn''t go too far to say he was a good man, honestly I can barely ever draw a line between good and bad, but he was what he was. With women, he was bare. At some point, he quit acting without realizing it, but he did.


    One might blame Yozo''s childhood for all that he became, I disagree. How can you save a person that''s only known the worse side of things? How do you make that person believe? What kind of miracle can you bring? Does that mean there''s no salvation for them? I think such a world would be bleak and full of misery. For one, take it from someone who had a perfectly normal childhood, aside from the continuous squabbles of my parents about money, family and his women, my mother''s paranoia and their hate for each other, all that only worked to make me insensitive towards noise. I couldn''t care less if they wanted to kill each other. It''s true, my idea of a marriage may have become rotten but that is only just a small part of everything.


    Speaking of, I don''t believe I ever loved my parents, I couldn''t. Its true I could have been adopted, that''s what I tell people. I know it''s as false as false gets. But it shuts them up. I can''t display affections that are not there, I have never known how to do that. I can lie like a champ, I''m a terrific actor. But I''d never lie to myself. That''s a part of the misery.


    The school I went to was a military school. Nothing too special about it, except I got to see officers and big people all the time. When I was 15, I went ahead to join military. Really, I just wanted an escape route, I wanted to run away. And this was a prestigious way to run away. To be honest, I never liked the idea of being a soldier. For one, I can''t take orders. Fighting for freedom? What a joke! Those soldiers are more of a slave than anyone on the planet. Anyways, I never fought for real. We were a band of trainees that went in to clear up the mess after those brutes had finished eating. We were really just the bottom of the barrel. I didn''t care in the beginning as long as I got a bed of my own to sleep on, even if it was just for four hours sometimes.


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    I stayed there less than a year. In November, they caught three men at the border, some petty soldiers from God knows where. All they told us was those three men were hostiles. Nobody questioned anything. I saw them begging for their lives like any common man would before they were shot in the head. That did it for me. I''d seen dead people before but not someone killed in front of me. It wasn''t too different but what bothered me was that I couldn''t look away. Those ''hostiles'' were the small fry whose names would be forgotten tomorrow. That''s not what I was gonna end up like. So I left, even the prospect of my own bed didn''t keep me from leaving.


    And the one thing I realized on my way home as I got off the train, was that I was a pathetic weakling. The thought was very sudden and I laughed like an idiot right in the middle of the station that night. I don''t like weakness but I had never seen it in me before, that''s why I liked myself a bit better before this realization.


    I think that Dazai had that courage, the courage to take the plunge, meant to be his final. He could do it more than once. A man so in love with his life, I could never be like that. Because the truth is I am incapable of loving.

 Chapter 3: Main Character

    Yozo knew he was the main character of his story. If nothing else, he knew he was important. A lot goes into thinking that way. That''s why it makes me ever so sad to see that Dazai never realized his own courage. Yozo isn''t perfect but he knows it. He points out all the absurdities of this universe, how wrong people are and how unfair life can be. But all along, he talks about his incapability. He''s never denied the fact that he was the bad guy, the real evil, the monster. Like Dostoevsky''s Raskolnikov, very much like him in fact, Yozo carried more guilt in him than life. You begin to question if there was any way to save him.


    I had realized early on that there was only so much I could do with my life. This sounds ridiculous to people when I mention it, purely accidentally of course. Yesterday I was called "blessed", today, "perfect".


    This is nothing new. I''ve been called various things, people refuse to believe I could even be real. Genius, alien, vampire, god...the list goes on. I am no longer human. I''ve long given up struggling to protect my normalcy. Truth is, there is no other normal that I could be. Were I to relive my life, I would still choose this misery. I have never wanted to be happy, that''s what I believe. I don''t think there''s anything particularly wrong with that either.


    I kept wandering around like an idiot after I came back from the training camp. I absolutely couldn''t stand my home, I was sick of answering the same questions over and over again. All the conversations always ended the same way. I began to skip school very often, which was a rare thing for me. Some of my friends believed I was still in military. I didn''t go back for the next two months. I considered running away to become a vagabond because I liked my life like this. There was no reason for why I never did it. Probably because I''m a coward.


    When I did go back, I told people "the military couldn''t handle me". This worked like a charm, people laughed, didn''t ask anymore. I was in my first year of high school, then. School''s always been a terrible place for me, it exhausts me beyond measure. On the bright side, it lets me see so much. I''m the kind that loves watching people. Holmes never did impress me. Reading people was as easy as pie. Some people would bore me to death, others would always bring a new annoyance. To be honest, I could care less for humans. I feel like I''m just sitting outside, watching a movie, separate from them all. It can get lonely. But it didn''t.


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    I remember he was a third year in my school. I''d seen him around a couple of times but there''d never been an occasion for talking. I can''t remember most of what he looked like. I never knew his name. Funny, isn''t it? One day, a teacher wouldn''t get off my case so I was a bit late going home. That teacher was a nice guy and I had nothing against him. So on my way home, I just got to thinking about what he''d said but I realized I could barely remember the bits and pieces. Then I got to thinking about the cigarette he  was smoking and just like that, I stopped on a little bridge, thinking about the smoke and all.


    That''s when this guy came up to me. I don''t know when and what he had said but then he told me a joke and that was funny. He told me he''d seen me getting an earful from the teacher. He suggested I should get myself in a club.


    "No way. If I have to join a club, I''ll make my own."


    "Great. Well, hit me up any time you do it", he left after that.


    I don''t think I''d have made a club but I did. And then I did invite him. But there could be no club with just two people so it got shut down. I would have thought this was all over. But then he invited me to join a club. I wouldn''t have, but I did.


    I shouldn''t have...probably. This guy is the protagonist of my story. You see, I''m the kind of person who isn''t even the main character of their own story. I''d always be a side character, I''ve known it all along. I''m not like Yozo. I''m not important. And I kill all the important people.

 Chapter 4: Guitar

    Yozo was afraid of his father but there is no doubt that he loved both his parents. His parents didn''t think much of him, I believe. Yet he was important to them, by virtue of being their son. I think that is a very common parent-child relation. Yozo knew it deep down as well.


    I''ve never enjoyed the privilege of a trusting parent. My parents didn''t believe I was capable of anything. "Blessed" and "perfect" as I was called so commonly, it appears my parents knew the truth. I was handed an ambition that demanded nothing but mindless studying, good grades and being the honor student. I, at one time, had it all. Perhaps I was seeking approval or love, but I know neither was there when I came home. Being in the spotlight eventually became a drag. They no longer came to see me get that award. Annual ceremonies were no more than a futile wait.


    That''s when I took a crazier road. I was still an honor student, not because I was a genius but because every other person was dumb. I threw away all the trophies, piling dust. I was no longer the teacher''s favorite. They were afraid. I wasn''t able to respect them perhaps. Though outwardly, I never said anything crude but it was just the way I looked at them. I simply no longer cared. They would constantly try to figure me out.


    One time, a teacher admitted it to me, "You scare me...as if you aren''t from here...like an alien".


    I had to hold back my laughter. Eventually though, they would give up and there I''d be, free and indifferent.


    The ambition my parents had given to me became the last thing I could imagine becoming. A professor, this is something I had to become, that was drilled into my mind ever since I was a kid. But I gave up on it entirely. I wanted to be a musician.


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    I remember the day I brought a guitar home. All I got was disapproval and unhappy looks.


    "It takes years to do this. You can''t possibly do this."


    "So what? You think you can become cool just because you are holding that thing in your hands. Well, earth to Ms. Brainless. Do you even know how many chords there are?"


    "I bet you''d just give up tomorrow."


    I know for a fact that if I was standing in the middle of the street, playing that same guitar to earn some money, they would be a friend to me. But I wouldn''t do that. I just wouldn''t satisfy them like this.


    I became a rebel through and through and the kind of crazy that did everything you''d think no one would ever do. I wasn''t an entertainer people flocked to anymore. They were scared now. They were only an audience when I wanted them to. I was living selfishly for one.


    I don''t think I was ever able to feel attached anymore. For a while, when I did become attached, it was short lived. I learned to avoid it. For my little brother, for example, but he was burdened by being a friend to me. He chose to leave home and live with our elder brother. And then for my childhood friend, she chose a man.


    Eventually, I could feel the distance growing as her world began to revolve around him. Her parents didn''t approve. We were so young after all. She died due to complications at 18. I promised her I''d look after her child. Despite myself, I said it and I did mean it. She thanked me. Even though she had a sister who would have been a much more loving mother, she said that I should do it. I think while I made that promise, I really didn''t believe that she''d die. But she did. I was lost in a world with nowhere to belong. In the end, I left there with no knowledge of the child and I didn''t look back either.


    I knew then that I was not to be salvaged anymore. After all, I gave up on that guitar. To be honest, it sounded so bland now. I could no longer hear music.

 Chapter 5: Paccon and I

    I''ve always admired the wasteful, or should I say the so-called wasteful, life that Yozo led. He drank, slept with women, settled down once in a while, worked here and there and drew. But he always got back to being the him that was careless and free. The idea of having just enough money to do just what you want at that moment is a moment of pure bliss to me. How Yozo could relax himself in the flimsy world of communists and Horiki, brings out a feeling of yearning in me. Sadly, I was never able to relax.


    Joining that club was a pleasant thing for me, as unexpected as that may be. The club leader was a friend of that guy. She was a nice girl, though I tended to avoid her initially, because I felt unwelcomed. The two seemed to me to be very close. She called him "P


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 Chapter 6: I see You

    My thoughts have become a lot more faded now. The subtlety I used to have is now gone, I let people in on all my broken edges. I have become weaker and my suffering is not mine alone anymore.


    My days with Paccon were short-lived but also the greatest days I knew in all my life. But soon my focus shifted towards my home and I saw Paccon less and less as days went by. We still wasted away more than half of our days but now I would leave for home. I wonder what Paccon had been thinking about me when I was gone. I wonder if he had been thinking at all. He had a good family and a lot of pets, he didn''t have that much spare time even with me gone.


    My mother became worse than ever before. She was insecure, untrusting, possessive to the point of suffocating and she hated us all. My father couldn''t keep it in his pants anymore. Some people told me they''d seen him. That''s not something I wanted to hear. I wanted to run away and Paccon was where I''d be headed. I was always comfortable with him. I really felt like I was being seen for once in my life. Paccon was seeing the me that I had never known how to express. I was happy and yet I knew this was all coming to an end.


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    I had been lying to Paccon. He didn''t know the things he should have known. And I should have given him time.


    "What if the world was ending someday?", Paccon asked very randomly.


    "I think you''d still turn out to be fine", I conjectured.


    "Well yeah", he was moderately confident about this as well, "But then I''ll be drifting in space all alone. For a long time."


    "That''s true. Then maybe it''s better to die", I said, "I know! I''ll just run to your place and make sure we die together so we can meet up in the heavens together as well."


    "That sounds nice", Paccon agreed.


    We remained silent for some while afterwards.


    "What if I don''t get to heaven though?", it was a very random pondering.


    "We''ll get you in", Paccon said confidently, just the way he always said it.


    "How?"


    "With a catapult".


    He could say that and I could take it. We were very lighthearted about death and heaven and hell. I don''t know why people find death to be sad. I''ve never been able to become sad when someone died. It may just be me, but Paccon understood that.


    I wonder if Yozo could have made it. If he had found someone that could see him as well, I wonder if he would have made it then. But he did make it, right? Well probably but why is it that his existence seems so lonely? I don''t think Yozo made it. I can''t find him anywhere. He was lost somewhere on the way. He still hasn''t made an appearance yet. I''ve been calling out his name but there hasn''t been an answer.

 Chapter 7: The Home We Return To

    My life spiraled into a pit of darkness after that. That''s how Yozo must have been feeling. Being real in the world with no reality or being unreal in a world too real, either way Yozo and Dazai and I, we didn''t fit in. It was too much for our consciences to take. We simply couldn''t compromise, because lying to ourselves was the greatest pain we knew.


    I ran away, finally. I didn''t stop for three days, I didn''t leave the town though, I was probably too scared to do that. I slept in parks any lonely place I could find. But I was never much of a sleeper anyway. An hour of sleep would do it for me. I ate in odd places, just enough to keep me going. I had barely any money, it was gone in three days.


    During these three days, I met Paccon twice. I didn''t tell him anything but I bet he figured it out. We talked vaguely about small things and big things, I don''t remember.


    "I don''t think people ought to do that. If you''re gonna do that, then you might as well run all over the planet. Ain''t nothing to lose, is there?", Paccon was talking about me, or so I imagined.


    Back then, I wonder if I had been considering suicide. I''ve always hated it and yet at some point, it became such a convenience. Thinking back, I bet my world changed quite a bit and drastically too, for me to have changed my ideas so much. I can''t say I regret it. I''ve become much more open to ideas in general. Nothing seems to me repulsive. I can''t seem to like anything. I can''t seem to feel a lot either. I just go on and on and on. I wish I would just stop.


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    I saw Paccon the night of the third day. He knew just where to find me. We reminisced about the old days, with the club and with Kuma and with his friend who was always late. He saw him quite often these days and he said we''d soon be the three of us. I thought that would have been fine. And then we stayed silent for a very long time.


    "Paccon", I figured it was time for me to leave, "I''m going home."


    " I see"


    "But I''ll be back."


    "You would."


    "Yeah. Very soon."


    "That''s good. He''ll be here too by the time you''re back."


    "Yeah. That''d be great."


    "Well. It was nice and all", Paccon said, "It really was. We click good, don''t we?"


    "I''d been thinking the same."


    "Yeah, well I''ll be right here when you come back."


    I nodded. Promises, promises, promises.


    "And well you know, I think I''ll miss you", I didn''t wait for his reply, "Bye now!"


    I intended to go back, I believe. I wish I could. I was gonna go back, right?


    Right.


    But that''s me. I can''t do it. I can''t live a lie. I can''t fool myself. I had to come home. And I did. And so did Yozo. We can''t let go of our own thoughts and monsters. We are trapped in there. There''s this hell inside and that''s what we always come back to.

 Chapter 8: The End of Our World

    I know what Yozo wanted. He wanted to end the world, not himself. And he was right, the world dies when you die. But he killed the world without dying. That''s an amazing feat. You better believe it.


    Paccon was dead.


    His friend told me that he jumped. Its funny, this had never happened before. His friend had never talked to me when he wasn''t the third person there. It felt so odd and yet...and yet I wish it would have continued to be odd. But not anymore.


    I can''t say I remember what happened then. To be honest, when I got the news, it was so dark out, perhaps 2 in the morning. And there I sat, sweating on my bed, wind rushing in through the windows and yet I felt like the whole world had ceased to exist. I felt alone, for the first time in my life. The loneliness, with that intensity, had never grasped me so wholly before. And as I felt the world go vacant, I felt the life leave my existence. I had finally lost it all.


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    I don''t know what happened afterwards. When I came to, the sun was already starting to rise and a million centuries had passed. I didn''t...I could never cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to fade away. I clenched my heart over and over again, it wasn''t there.


    I had abandoned Paccon. I don''t know why he did what he did. But I know we planned to die together when we did, and I had remained behind. I had betrayed his trust. To this day, I feel the guilt weighing me down.


    Anyways, I didn''t even know where he lived, so attending his funeral was very out of question. I didn''t have the courage or the mental awareness to ask his friend either. Nothing meant anything anymore. I know they tell you the world doesn''t end with just one person dying, well mine sure did. I''m not snapping out of this..."this". I''m staying.


    I ended up running away again. I smoked like a chimney and I looked so rotten, you''d have thought I was dead. I went to school, but I never took any classes. I wasn''t acquainted with the world for a long time after that.


    I know Paccon would ask me, why I wrote about us like this? He wouldn''t even stay to read it through. I wonder what answer I could give him. I want to see him again.

 Chapter 9: A Letter to Paccon

    "Hey there, Paccon!


    I haven''t seen you in a very long time but there hasn''t been a day when I haven''t thought of you. I''ve been thinking about what to say to you when I do see you again. How I''ll apologize and say that you don''t have to forgive me. Actually, maybe I won''t say sorry because I know it''s wrong of me. I wonder if you think of me once in a while.


    Am I still a person in your world? Am I a part of your existence? Please don''t forget me. I want you to hate me with all your being if it means that you''ll remember me. Because it was seeing my own image in your eyes that reminded me that I exist. I need you to acknowledge my presence so I can feel alive.


    You hated lies the most and I know you were insecure about people leaving you. I never wanted to be what you hated because now I''ve become something I hate too. I did intend to come back. And I was always thinking about what we''d be like when you graduate. I know you never intended to go to college but I''d still be in high school. We would have talked about our old friends and where they all ended up and about that club room. I wonder what we''d be like when we grow up a lot more. Will we still be able to take walks around town? Will we still be carefree? I bet they''ll put us in jail for it.


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    You know, I''m a singer now. Nothing too big, I sing on stages of all kinds but people don''t know my name. They know my face, I guess that''s good enough. To tell you the truth, every time I''m up there on the stage, it''s just me. The past, the life I had, everything fades away. It''s just me in the moment. And when the moment has passed, there''s nothing else that remains from that moment. I''ve made mistakes. I forget lyrics, sometimes I forget to sing and sometimes I have to be pulled down from the stage. Many things, I don''t even recall. People laugh, people love, people hate. I couldn''t care less. I haven''t been singing for them, perhaps that''s why I''m never going to make it big.


    When I''m up there, the lights blind me, I can''t look straight so I close my eyes, but then I see you and I quickly open my eyes. You still exist so strongly, more than me.


    Sometimes, I imagine that I''d get to see Yozo and Raskolnikov and Dazai and you, Paccon. You don''t know anyone else but you know me which is enough. For the longest time, I stayed in the company of your friends too. So you can stay in mine, I know you''ll be a riot. You are able to get along with anyone, you are so amazing.


    I''ve been trying, to come see you. I can''t. I simply can''t. Go on and hate me for making you wait. I''m always such a dork. But I''ll be there, I promise. I''ve been smoking real hard you know, and I feel maybe, I''m already half way there. I''ve coughed blood twice, that''s a good sign. I haven''t got much money either so there''s no escape route. I''m done now, I think this is enough.


    I don''t know your address, where can I post this?


    Where are you?"

 Chapter 10: This is my Name

    We weren''t Jack and Rose, this isn''t a sob story, this is a confession.


    I didn''t love Paccon, I''m sure. If I had, then I would have stayed, it''s quite obvious really. But this story is short, way too short. It ended long ago and now I fear I can never speak of him to anyone, ever again. That''s the problem with the stories that have been completely said.


    I think Dazai must have felt the same as well. Yozo had said all there was to say, nothing else remained for Dazai. Like me. I was never seeking closure, there would never be any closure, but this is the end.


    My family got together multiple times to do things that families are supposed to do. Its moments like these that made us really realize the inadequacies of our family. In fact, we were not a family. We tried over and over again but then it was time to leave. After Paccon''s death, I left. I never saw them again and I bet they cared only too little.


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    I''d been living like a gypsy for the longest time. Then I found a man, a man I didn''t love and a man that didn''t love me. We chose to stay together, knowing that we had no feelings for each other. I told him he was free to seek women. He told me he''d put a bullet in my head before I was disloyal. He''s a gentleman but he''s a player. This is my way of self harm, I kid you not. It makes me somewhat guilty sometimes, he''s a good man and I believe, knowing that I can''t love him with all his perfections, when the rest of the world wants him so strongly, is what makes him stay with me.


    I am loyal and I will never leave him and I wouldn''t hold him back if he decides to leave. I bet its just too hard for him to believe.


    I''m seeking Paccon still. Just a little longer, that''s what I tell myself everyday, that''s what keeps me going.


    Say, do you think I could be saved? What could have been different? What could have been the meaning in my existence? Why and who for did I live? It''s all so useless. I lived for nothing and now that it''s my time to go, I find that I will die for nothing as well. I just hope I get to see them.


    I should tell you before I leave, the name I carry is the name Paccon gave me.