It’s about time we do a little digging and check out John Doe’s past and existence. It’s not necessarily essential to know John from the past, but it can’t hurt either and there are a few things that some of us should know about him. Not that he’s interesting or anything. On the contrary, he’s everything the title of his book doesn’t say. He’s a dull bloke with a dull life and nothing to say to the world that would knock it off its feet and soften its legs.
First things first, let us start with the beginning, when was John born? Well, you see, that’s a tricky one, mainly because he was never born, he never knew the life of a newborn or the one of a toddler. No, he’s unfamiliar with that type of happiness and lack of concern. John Doe simply spurred into existence at a young, fragile age, when the copper soldiers were yet to be forgotten. He was born from love, created by his maker to merely witness and advise him throughout his struggling. Soon enough, the maker’s struggle for love became his own.
The John past was the most innocent form of existence he ever experienced. He fell in love without even knowing what love is, at a time when the shame of being labeled as “in love” was greater than the love itself. Back then, when John was nothing than a stupid little child, love meant rhyme less, meaningless poems, love was the flower he picked up in some random yard just to put in a little girl’s braded brown hair in the morning, knowing it’ll be gone by noon. That love was real, it was pure, John Doe had loved before he could even understand even the smallest bit of what love really is. He loved with all his heart, he loved his twisted little poems, his beautiful stolen flowers, and the beautiful wavy hair of even some random girls he never actually knew. He just thought that flowers would look great in those curls.
And like every love there is, that innocent need for affection came to bite John Doe in the ass. It scarred his soul with every opportunity, and thought him how to live with deception. He started coping with his love, smothering it until it slowly curled inside his soul and hid there, away from the vicious eyes of the world around him. You might think that this made John bitter, that it ruined him in some way, and you couldn’t be much more wrong. It didn’t make him stronger either. It just made him. He was what he was because of his scars from that time. And he learnt to fall in love with the idea of love, thus eliminating the need for reciprocity. He never knew if the beautiful little girls loved him back, and he didn’t care. From a small age, John became aware of the beauty of loving in secret, being able to model his love after his own ideas, not having to restrain himself in the boundaries of reality or relationships.
But after a while, the love finally overcame his rationality and imagination. Or maybe not. It is hard to say what happened. The truth is, love actually disappeared, instead of becoming overwhelming. John simply stopped seeing the beautiful girls they just weren’t there for him anymore. The reason for his existence was lost, and the inevitable happened for the first time in a long series of events. John Doe died.