Eren Yeager had always been a child. From birth to the day he died. He lived with a selfish, childish dream to find freedom. Yet, freedom was a manifestation of his innate desire to fill the boredom swallowing him whole. It killed him.
But before t...
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You said something again today, and I can't get it out of my head. You were playing with my hair when you said it. I can still feel your fingers, the ghost of your touch. You were so gentle, the way your nails scraped my scalp in lazy movements. You sat to the side, and I laid on your lap, my wooden crutch leaning against the bricked wall. I watched how your eyes focused on the sky once again.
You were, as always, I've realised, talking about a book you recently read, and how it said something about how people with intelligence and sensitivity could not exist in this world very long without having some sort of anger about the inequality.
You said it wasn't just a bleeding-heart, knee-jerk, liberal kind of thing. You continued saying that it was just a normal human reaction to a nonsensical set of values where weird flavoured treats were created, and people still slept on the streets.
I'm not sure what you meant towards the end— you fumbled with your words. It was cute, honestly. The way your cheeks turned this rosy-pink colour.
It distracted me from your words.
But as I sit and write this, I think I understand. People are suffering, and those with money and power are abusing it for their own enjoyment. That's why people can't last long. People like me. People like you.
I want us to last long, though.
I don't want to lose you.
But this is life, isn't it?
Shit happens, and we're forced to live with it: this huge ass birdcage and the suffering that comes with restriction. You say we have to find beauty in the pain. And that there's a reason for the rainbow through the rain.
But what if we can't live with it?
I don't want to.
This isn't fair.
This world isn't fair.
Can't we do something about it? Aren't we meant to? If it's freedom we seek — or rather, I seek, shouldn't I do something about it?
I have lived my whole life surrounded by towering walls, fearing for humanity and its limited life. I lived with boredom— a feeling personified, encompassing me whole. Staring at nothing and everything. Life was monotonous to me then. It still is.
But now, I have the power. I have the strength. I can do what others can't.
I think—
I think I will do something.
And though I may regret it in the future, I think it's for the best. People won't change. So the only option is to get rid of them all.
Render the world the same as the pictures in Armin's childhood book. Empty planes of nature, where no humans remained.
I just hope that you'll listen to me. And still look at me the same way you do now.
Although I doubt it.
Who could love a monster who seeks to create a whole new world?
