I often contemplated what happens after we pass away. I left this world at the age of 20, not in a grand way, but due to cancer. Doctors were surprised because I appeared healthy and stayed active. I used to travel a lot and made sure to exercise daily, whether at a gym or by jogging from place to place. If it was too far, I'd take a taxi or a bus.

I had a deep passion for insects, particularly ants, for their fascinating behaviours. At 18, I attempted to maintain an ant farm, but the ants escaped when I turned 19.

I tried to find them but couldn't. They were just regular black ants, and I didn't bother with their official names. I had a job studying bugs, observing their behaviour in various settings. This allowed me plenty of free time to explore bugs in different places.

One of the most exciting times was when I observed ants in a forest. I can't recall the location, but some of them were controlled by a fungus. I noted five ants acting strangely, and one simply climbed a bush and stayed motionless.

When I returned later, that ant had changed, with something growing out of its head. I wished I could have seen what happened next, but it was about a week after that I got diagnosed with cancer.

I sought medical help due to persistent headaches interfering with my work and hobbies. After various tests, I received the diagnosis of brain cancer. The doctors were astonished, considering my youth and vitality. They inquired about my family and my travel history, speculating about radiation exposure, though I hadn't visited places with radiation.

Ultimately, I passed away, or at least that's what I recollect. I even saw myself in the hospital while standing beside the bed.

Afterward, it was just nothing, more nothing. It felt like I wasn't real, incapable of thought or recalling my identity.