The boy sits silently in the dark. He is alone at the top of a muddy hill, looking down onto the rest of a battered, foggy landscape. While trying to blend in with his surroundings he is hit with a wave of intense despondency. His eyes well up, but he resists from opening the floodgates, attempting with all his might to overcome the purest of human emotions. If he stays still enough, maybe, just maybe, he will become one with the nearby families of deciduous trees, bypassing the illogical drama associated with humankind.
What a silly idea!
The boy is a human!
He must not avoid the rest of his kind!
The trees? We have been perfectly fine for countless millenia.
The humans? It is they who are in need of dire assistance!
Why would one bail on his own species?
The boy hears the trees' remarks and slumps lowly towards the the ground.
He is not a tree, and should never have tried to become one.
What if these trees are correct?
What if this boy holds an essential piece to the puzzle that plagues humanity?
Is it right to cower away from the stresses of the world?
Of course not!
Quickly, the boy shoots up onto his two feet. He rips off his shirt, yanks off his shoes, slips out of his shorts, and tears apart his boxers. He dives onto the ground and rolls down the muddy hill, covering his naked body in an earthly sludge all while letting his tears stream outward like a mighty river. At the bottom of the hill he stands up yet again, lets out a roar of anguish, and sprints towards the dark fog.
This is what the human race needs.
I very well may be out of my mind. Perhaps I am a crazy boy who has lost sense of how the world is supposed to work. Nonetheless, for countless decades, if not centuries, the "sane" ones have steered the masses towards a depressing and bleak reality.
I am also aware that I may not have found the answers just yet. I am still young, and if I end up failing in the long run, I promise to go back into the mud I rose up from, peacefully and wholeheartedly.
I am a human.