As I glide on the warm winds over the desert, I watch the tiny, scurrying humans below. Merchants, shinobi, wandering bands—none of them mean anything to me. To them, I’m invisible. I mean, why would they look up? They’re too busy, their heads full of meaningless noise, focused on their tasks like ants. It's fascinating, really. They toil away, consumed by thoughts of what was and what might be, completely oblivious to the present moment.
Humans—they’re odd. They’re always stuck in this loop, jumping between the past and future, never stopping to just exist. It’s their flaw. They get caught up in their little worries and plans, missing the beauty around them. That’s where I’m different. I don’t care about the past or the future. The present is what’s right in front of me, and I notice everything. The way a blade of grass breaks through the pavement. The way the wind shifts in the heat of summer. Not that I care for any of it, mind you. It’s all ridiculous, in a way. Nature and its persistence, humans and their constant stress—none of it matters.
But here’s the thing: I still notice it. I’m aware of it. Every crack in the earth, every breeze that smells like dust and desperation. It’s all there, even if it’s all… pointless. Humans—they like to assign meaning to it. They stop and admire a sunset, or gasp at the sight of a blooming flower, as if the world is doing them some kind of favor by existing. Me? I know better. The world is just here. It’s indifferent.
Still, it’s almost amusing how little attention they pay to their surroundings. And maybe that’s the problem with them. They’re too busy worrying about things that don’t matter, and they miss the fact that, really, none of it does. But I notice it. Not because I enjoy it. I don’t. It’s just there. Like everything else. It’s some bull shit.
[Leaving Country]
[Runtime 1+00]
[mft]