.: 060 | Not good ...
Real, not real ... the point to existing ... what does any of it really mean, anyway? Who decides if someone is worth enough to be allowed to live, to be allowed to exist, and who isn't? Why do people always feel like they have the right to decide that for us?
I never wanted anyone else to have to feel like this. I never wanted anyone else to know what it's like, to be nagged by this constant feeling of not being worth it, of not being good enough. Like you're being constantly pulled in two directions, torn up and cast aside on someone's whim.
I've always thought that I need some purpose to my existence. Like, if I didn't have a reason to have been made, then I shouldn't have been. I don't know if it's right. I don't know if I should have ever felt that way, or if it was just foolish sentiment. Somewhere along the line, I stopped thinkng that. I don't know when, but I just did; it wasn't when I decided that, regardless of what they - what he - wanted, I would live and that I deserved to. I know that's not when it was. But it happened. I don't need someone else to tell me why I'm here. I know why I was created. I know what they made me for and what they intended for me to do. But that's not why I exist.
I exist. I don't need some grand reason for it. I thought once that I did. Looking back on it, I can't even figure out why or how I made myself believe that. There's no point in living just because someone else is telling you what to be. Living is ... you live because it's what you want. And you deserve to because of it. And that's enough ... that's enough for me. I'm happy with that.
I want to be able to help people realize that ... I want to be able to use that feeling, that knowledge, to be able to change what we've been forced into - here, or anywhere - so that we can live our lives the way that we ourselves want to. That's how we should each be. Without others dictating to us whether or not we exist, whether or not we have a purpose in someone else's eyes.
There's worth in each of us. Even if created for the wrong reasons, it's there. And I won't let anyone else be treated as just some ... some thing just because they don't fit into another person's definition of what it means to live, what it means to be real, what it means to exist.
I thought, once, that I needed to change myself to fit into someone else's view of who I should be ... but that's not right. What I do, now and in the future, isn't for his sake. I'd like for him to accept me one day, but he doesn't have to. It'd be nice, but it doesn't define me. I want to become better, for me. I want to become the person who I can be proud of being. I want to become better than what I am now, I want to shed this fate of just being someone's doll, someone's weapon, and become the person who I truly want to be. For my own sake. Not for Asch, and certainly not for sensei. I want to prove that I can do it ... I want to see if it's possible. And, maybe then, I can believe that what I feel is truly my own.
I'm not someone with a past. I spent so long haunted by that, feeling empty because of it ... but, I know now. I don't need that past. If I keep looking back, at the years that I never had but am missing and at the time that I've spent so far, then I can never advance. I can never move forward.
But even with this ... even with these thoughts, I ...
... I've realized something here. I didn't notice it at first, because I'm so used to it. I've always felt it.
I should have known all along. I should have known that, somehow, there are fonons here. Enough of them to sustain whatever anyone from Auldrant that they would drag in might do. I should have known it from the start, but it took me until a couple of weeks ago to really realize it. That feeling ... the sensation of always being pulled at ...
Most people wouldn't feel it, even if they were from Auldrant. Jade probably did because of his own capabilities, and because of ... ... ... but I, as a ... ... ... as a replica, I should have felt it. Because of how this body works, because of how it is made. I wish that I knew what to make of it. In a way, knowing that they're there is almost relieving, and yet, that they're there, it might be my own downfall.
I don't know. I don't know anything about this.
Oh. ... Yuuko. Thank you. I think I understand, if only a little.
I never wanted anyone else to have to feel like this. I never wanted anyone else to know what it's like, to be nagged by this constant feeling of not being worth it, of not being good enough. Like you're being constantly pulled in two directions, torn up and cast aside on someone's whim.
I've always thought that I need some purpose to my existence. Like, if I didn't have a reason to have been made, then I shouldn't have been. I don't know if it's right. I don't know if I should have ever felt that way, or if it was just foolish sentiment. Somewhere along the line, I stopped thinkng that. I don't know when, but I just did; it wasn't when I decided that, regardless of what they - what he - wanted, I would live and that I deserved to. I know that's not when it was. But it happened. I don't need someone else to tell me why I'm here. I know why I was created. I know what they made me for and what they intended for me to do. But that's not why I exist.
I exist. I don't need some grand reason for it. I thought once that I did. Looking back on it, I can't even figure out why or how I made myself believe that. There's no point in living just because someone else is telling you what to be. Living is ... you live because it's what you want. And you deserve to because of it. And that's enough ... that's enough for me. I'm happy with that.
I want to be able to help people realize that ... I want to be able to use that feeling, that knowledge, to be able to change what we've been forced into - here, or anywhere - so that we can live our lives the way that we ourselves want to. That's how we should each be. Without others dictating to us whether or not we exist, whether or not we have a purpose in someone else's eyes.
There's worth in each of us. Even if created for the wrong reasons, it's there. And I won't let anyone else be treated as just some ... some thing just because they don't fit into another person's definition of what it means to live, what it means to be real, what it means to exist.
I thought, once, that I needed to change myself to fit into someone else's view of who I should be ... but that's not right. What I do, now and in the future, isn't for his sake. I'd like for him to accept me one day, but he doesn't have to. It'd be nice, but it doesn't define me. I want to become better, for me. I want to become the person who I can be proud of being. I want to become better than what I am now, I want to shed this fate of just being someone's doll, someone's weapon, and become the person who I truly want to be. For my own sake. Not for Asch, and certainly not for sensei. I want to prove that I can do it ... I want to see if it's possible. And, maybe then, I can believe that what I feel is truly my own.
I'm not someone with a past. I spent so long haunted by that, feeling empty because of it ... but, I know now. I don't need that past. If I keep looking back, at the years that I never had but am missing and at the time that I've spent so far, then I can never advance. I can never move forward.
But even with this ... even with these thoughts, I ...
... I've realized something here. I didn't notice it at first, because I'm so used to it. I've always felt it.
I should have known all along. I should have known that, somehow, there are fonons here. Enough of them to sustain whatever anyone from Auldrant that they would drag in might do. I should have known it from the start, but it took me until a couple of weeks ago to really realize it. That feeling ... the sensation of always being pulled at ...
Most people wouldn't feel it, even if they were from Auldrant. Jade probably did because of his own capabilities, and because of ... ... ... but I, as a ... ... ... as a replica, I should have felt it. Because of how this body works, because of how it is made. I wish that I knew what to make of it. In a way, knowing that they're there is almost relieving, and yet, that they're there, it might be my own downfall.
I don't know. I don't know anything about this.
Oh. ... Yuuko. Thank you. I think I understand, if only a little.