In other words, I’m a ‘kitsune miko that lives in a mountain shrine’, and my existence is determined wholly by people believing in this form that I take. I don’t have any individuality or part which is really ‘myself’. Like a myth or a legend, my story and things that happen in my life are all shaped and dreamt up by other people, none of which I actually live through of my own accord. Almost like I’m just a higher level imaginary friend of sorts, existing only in the minds of people who believe… the consciousness that I have right now is not of myself. No, the ‘awareness’ I have is almost like that of a third person observer, living out the figments of imagination of what people believe that ‘a kitsune miko would do in a given situation’, of countless, untold numbers of people… You could say that everything that I even think about, everything that I feel, ‘everything that I could possibly feel was a thought of someone else, and if no one ever thought of it, I could never think of it’, an existence void of self-agency… and even that void of self-agency is something thought up by some ‘author’, somewhere… Please don’t misunderstand, I’m not actually venting my frustrations or in despair about it all. After all, even this feeling I’m feeling right now is what people believe that I would feel given this situation I find myself in. that’s ‘faith’. That’s what gods (particularly those of Japan) are made of. For example, imagine that there was a doujin, or an anime or manga in which a wholly commercial depiction of a ‘kitsune girl’ existed. Imagine that people, in their own individual imaginations, thought of possible situations that this character would or could experience, continuing where the original media left off or left out. I’m that imaginary existence given flesh. The truly scary thing about this all is that when someone forgets or stops caring about my existence, my being loses what they had of me. And when everyone forgets, that will be a true and final death… I don’t want to die. It’s scary. Being forgotten is terrifying. But given my existence to begin with, could you even say that I have ‘lived’ at all? I’m but flesh given of the wavering, transient delusions or fantasies of a ‘kitsune girl’, and I don’t exactly exist ‘in time’, per se. I do not have an existence set in stone, there’s nothing concrete about who I am. I’ve said this before, but I’m simply an illusion, and what I am changes. My character, my appearance, and even the way I am cognizant, the way I think. They’ve always been changing, disappearing, appearing as time passes. What is now vanishes, and what comes also vanishes, and vanishes… and it keeps happening. Is that truly ‘living’? Is it really even ‘existing’? the me of yesterday is not the me of today, and the me of tomorrow will be different yet again. In order to conceptualize who I even am, because everyone thinks of me in a different way, I do not even have a fixed, baseline ‘form’. It’s insane, isn’t it? I think I was always insane to begin with… No; it’s just that I never looked insane to begin with. Because everyone believes that I’m not, believes that I am what I am, and I simply perform my part, like an actor acting… no, being made to act, a puppet. But inside, it’s all broken, there’s nothing but madness underneath. I’m unable to deny this fact. Did I not say before, that even my own existence as observer of myself in the third person is not of my own volition? But you, there, you’re imagining it right now, aren’t you? That it is? How could I possibly stay sane, with an existence like this-