When I woke up in the scarlet morning, I noticed some had already gone, and the others, including intangible materials, had all changed overnight. For example, my penis was so small. At last, I became a phony girl who could have sex with well-built men. I am an overwhelming mental masochist and great faggot, so I had often dreamt of a metamorphosis from an ordinarily boring man to a great short-penis tomgirl.

"O God, mayest thou save me!" I could not help praying for God and of course, myself--out of spite, though. According to one of the big-headed philosophers, "Change is as good as a travesty, or even tragedy." That is, we must avert from change and pursue catholicity; only David Bowie had the right to chase and achieve it. On earth, almost all of us should not have any American Dream, or we will destroy ourselves.

Nonetheless, I'm not sure whether the paragraph above is right, but I got all the more willing to say that for the uncertainty. I just wanted to play a farce, for changes we are experiencing in our lives are unjust. Anyway, let's keep on telling this story. How many people among us know about this fact, or this coincidence? You and I are still idiots, yet we don't realize it. What a miraculous thing! In a place where we hear natural ambient music, we always keep silent to make noise from inside our body, only to realize that we are part of nature and all sounds we produce and will are not noisy at all. At the same time, we also learn that unconsciously, we act on the principle and creed of nature called God. Agnosticism, you might think of, right? Old people have maintained they saw and spoke to the Lord, but if it is true, then so what? Neither truth nor falseness is of importance, but the induction.

Maybe now it was not in the morning, for I had never seen a clock by the bed since I got up. We could be about to hear the knell of dusk tolling. The only thing I'd ever seen was light infiltrating from the curtain. I closed my eyes, and then, I began to feel a reddish darkness and a barn-like smell maybe because I felt as if I were in a lonesome ranch where all livestock had already gone and some withered crops stayed like a dying old man of sadness sitting on a floor shed with a sunbeam. However, I did not have any kind of sorrow we need and needn't just the same, for I chose the latter.

My testicles were out of function. In other words, I could never ejaculate. Notwithstanding, it was good. Or better. The dysfunction of production means not the end of humanity but the oblivion of Kleshas. Love just leads us to perdition, like those dreams. Jesus gave us various freedoms, a few of which were love and subordination; this was because He thought that only love would kill us all. Undoubtedly, it is correct. Love is a prejudice and bias, so people have hated and killed one another completely due to God's bestowal! People could not make the most of it. On the contrary, they bestrewed the world with hatred. Love is similar to the opposite.

Also, I'm loath to boast about myself. I just wanted to be a faggot, not a member of the proud LGBTQ. We should have been a small and feeble minority, for a counterfeit political and ethical force does not get us anywhere. Being persecuted and humiliated, at least I can have supremacy over any other. The fact that I am inferior to others makes me paradoxically feel superior to them. However, I am not abject in the least.

I looked at the clock, which said 7 a.m. As I had thought, it was in the morning. I turned out and opened the bedroom door to wash my face and brush my teeth. Wondering what else had changed in my milieu, I cleaned my greasy face and sticky teeth. In my mind, Joanna Newsom was singing with ambiguous voices. Her songs had various meanings in a sense; that is, there was a vast room without adornment, and anyone could not reach them. They were accompanied by the harp and strings, which let her soul astray into the dark woods on purpose. I don't know, but I have no alternative to describe them. Although I didn't mean to deny her, I listened to Mary Lou Williams.

Outside my room, all sparrows and crows might be humming, and some bards singing a triumphant song for Jesus governing the kingdom of God, where Paul expelled us all long ago. I was still a sinner, even becoming a profound felony. When "Zodiac Suite" ended, I would kill myself. I decided. I know the world is filled with unbearable absurdity. "It is midnight. The rain is beating on the windows. It was not midnight. It was not raining." Fucking hell, but this is correct, whereas I am never absolved. I want to do myself in, but they will not allow me to enter their kingdom definitely, so I will die in abysmal serfdom. Then, I will rebel against them in vain and resignedly go "with hideous ruin and combustion, down to bottomless perdition, there to dwell in adamantine chains and penal fire, who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms." Thus, in an awfully good world, I would have to think of nothing things, but there is no good thing to ponder on.

My little penis was not virile, so I was content with it. Happiness was not in my room. There was only infinite despair for all. Others' faces always threatened me. They whispered, "Why don't you kill yourself? You have already noticed this cussing fact. 'There's no beatitude that Jesus taught and gave you. He trumped you up in exchange for adoration of Him. There, just nonsense exists.' We will save you instead of He, who's just crossing his arms." Hearing that, I was annoyed and scared. Not answering, I quailed at them and ran away.

I watched TV and was depressed by platitudes. I reached down my anus in underwear. As a girl at puberty masturbates, I began to toy with it. I imagined a masculine man raped me. I swept. At last, I culminated. Translucent fluid oozed from the top with sadness, anger, and suicidal ideation. Croosh silence. So I hanged, thinking that everyone must be stoned, burnt, beheaded, dismembered, hanged. Of course, be forgiven.