Chapter Text
Observe your surroundings through a lens of beauty. Only then, when you have accomplished this, will I allow you to try to convince me there is not a single good thing about this world.
It is necessary to allude to the fact that we, as humans, have a tendency to get lost within the complexity of our own thoughts. Life is an anachronism of influences, so it only makes sense to see the fine line separating impulse from purpose becoming blurred. We get deterred from our paths because we fail to see the bigger picture.
To fulfill our aspirations, we must first find beauty in the littlest of things. I find that this will ultimately give way to our desired outcomes. These miniscule details are what will provide the basic framework for our goals and ambitions.
The social hierarchy our nation thrives upon prioritizes those with money and self-indulgent habits. Do not let this dissuade you. Rather, pour your attention elsewhere. Regale yourself with the pitter-patter of the rain and the delicate droplets that descend towards the pavement in an arbitrary yet constant rhythm. Study the birds that flap their wings in a uniformity that aligns with the breathing of the wind. Delve into the depths of a book that contains a collection of captivating metaphors and allusions.
And for those of us who reside in the underground city, a drab location where the sun’s rays are incapable of reaching...
We must do the same.
Maybe we cannot experience the rain, birds, or words etched onto yellowed sheets of paper binded by a leather spine, but that gives us all the more reason to persevere. There is beauty in the quietude that wraps around the underground city. It allows one to focus on the soft crying of a newborn child, the incessant tapping of footsteps on a grainy terrain, and the faint humming of ventilators as they struggle to emit heat for the coming winter months. Every moment we encounter is an irrefutable reminder of our existence, a testament to our presence in this universe.
This is not to say I am ignorant to the malice in this world. I am well aware of the Titans that hastily consume our soldiers, citizens, and families, nor am I blind to the men born into a life of extravagance who trample upon the less fortunate without a second thought. I am aware that the underground is no place for the weak of heart and that most do not make it past their mid-twenties. It is easy to presume that all hope is lost for us.
But I can assure you that it is not.
If we go the entirety of our lives believing we are unfit to restore the broken parts of this world, then we are already surrendering to the forces that seek to keep us stagnant. The air we breathe is a suffocating dust that infiltrates our dry throats, but it is not dust alone that suffocates us. It is the hopelessness of others that clouds our vision, latching onto us and manipulating our intricate thought processes. It will occur in a way similar to that of a parasite dominating the cognitive abilities of its once nourished prey.
Before that can happen, you will need to decide: out of the two types of people who inhabit this world, which will you choose to be?
Will you choose to be the one who steps forward and allows their voice to be heard, seizing the reins of sovereignty and carrying out their obligations without reservation, brushing away any signs of uncertainty that attempt to divert their attention from the mission at hand?
Or will you choose to be the one who remains complacent, hidden in the shadows, fearful of the iridescent? Rather than reins of sovereignty being gripped, the coarse knots of rope will glide across your hands and leave streaks of red along your palms – a painful reminder of a missed opportunity, an opportunity you could have quite easily taken a hold of.
So choose.
You will either be the person who fights for the changes this world needs, or you will be the one to idly stand by as it crumbles beneath your grasp.
In order to bring forth the changes we want, we have to be willing to change some aspect of ourselves first. This may sound a bit unsettling; it may appear to contradict all the times you have been told to never change who you are for anybody. But I am not asking you to change who you are.
I am asking you to change the way you view the world.
Holding grudges against those who have more privilege than us is not going to resolve the dilemmas we currently face. And trust me, I do understand the frustration of watching others reach the moon while you remain on the sodden ground. I understand it all too well. Despite this, you must continue your journey in reaching for the moon.
Imagine it like this: there are two people. Person A and Person B. They share a common goal. It does not matter what the goal is; just know it is the same. What is not the same, though, are the circumstances in which they were raised. Person A was fortunate enough to be given the resources necessary for success. Person B, on the other hand, was permitted nothing. It is plain to see Person A has the advantage here. It only makes sense to see them reach success at a quicker pace than Person B. While Person A is at the brink of triumph, Person B is still frantically attempting to gather the essentials for their own affluences.
Ah, but do not worry. It is okay to be Person B. Nobody ever said Person B would never acquire success. It may take longer, and it may be a more strenuous path, but it is possible nonetheless. Just remember to never lose sight of the bigger picture. Some believe that it is not where we begin that matters, but where we end that is most important. While this statement contains a great truth, we must never forget where we came from, for that is what shapes our values and guides our purpose.
“Never give up.”
“Love yourself.”
“Stay strong.”
We know these things to be true. That much is obvious. But more often than not, we cannot help but let those words go in one ear and out the other. Yes, they are meant to give off the best intentions, but we have heard these trite phrases one too many times.
Nobody wants to give up.
Nobody wants to despise themselves.
Nobody wants to be weak.
What we really want to know is how.
How do we not give up?
How do we love ourselves?
How do we stay strong?
That is the real challenge.
Those are not things we are taught growing up. Children learn of their role in society and what they must do to sustain that role, but never once has the mental welfare of our people been a part of those teachings. We are taught how to survive, to fight and adapt, but not how to cope with our losses and how to nurture ourselves in times of stress. The system is flawed. It has failed us.
Regrettably, I do not have the answers to these questions. After all of the wisdom I’ve shared, you would think I’d have at least one solution for you. But I am afraid this is just another thing I am unable to provide you with. I am deeply sorry.
But although I may not have answers, I do have faith. The amount of faith you possess may waver from mine, or you may have an entirely different faith altogether. That is irrelevant. As long as we believe in somebody or something – whether it be a higher power, a tangible item, or even just ourselves – we can begin to fulfill our purpose, a purpose that is ours and nobody else's.
My time may be limited here, but I write this entry with the hope that you will find this journal sooner rather than later. There are a generous number of entries for you to read in due time – but in no rush. Nobody is asking you to absorb yourself within it all at once; that would be asking too much. I tend to ramble and speak my thoughts quite bluntly, so do take your time and let my words resonate as they will. And if you decide to abstain from reading this journal altogether, that’s okay, too. I will never live to know. Death seems to be making his visit at last, and I have made him wait long enough. It would be rude of me to keep him waiting any longer.
Perhaps you are wondering how I am holding up right now, how I must feel in my last moments before Death nimbly whisks away my soul. To put it simply: there is a boisterous yet calm ambience that fills my surroundings. I could say I am not afraid...but then I would be lying to you.
You see, my brain and heart stand on two ends of a spectrum; they have traveled down two incompatible trails. My brain is at peace. It welcomes Death and is thoroughly prepared for its demise. But my heart, it feels otherwise. It violently hammers inside of my chest, fearing its pending expiration date. Can you really blame it? My memories – the stories that are uniquely mine to hold, like the moment you first breathed life in my arms or spoke your first words, will cease to exist. My intellect, thoughts, and emotions will dissipate in an instant, never to evolve into something more. It all ends here. How sad.
You see, fear is a cluster of contradicting thoughts and assumptions on what is yet to come. At times, it feels palpable, and other times it is only fleeting. I imagine it is like a gust of wind cradling us in its arms, except the gusts suddenly become hands and close in the distance that stands between. The bundles of fog taunt us and refuse to let go. We become paralyzed.
But once you recognize the whirlwind as a product of your own mind, you can set yourself free.
When it sinks in I am finally gone, you must understand that the world will continue to spin at the pace it always has. Frost-covered grass will languidly turn into snow-laden fields to indicate the approach of a new season. Our sun will still brand the sky with orange and pink hues in its trajectory along the earth. The streets will remain unrestrained with the laughter of friends and the loud cries of small children. Happiness will still be found in every corner.
Life will move forward, but you will think otherwise. ‘Why?’ You might ask. ‘How can people be happy at a time like this?’ I know you too well. I am certain these are the exact questions running through your troubled head at this very moment. Well, you see, my precious child, remember what I said about the fine line that separates impulse from purpose. Do not let it become blurred.
Death befalls us when he chooses, and it just so happens to be my turn. Every day he visits many, and he leaves a path of people grieving in his wake. So grieve. Feel the weight of your loss, for that is the only way you can begin to heal. We each cope with death differently, so it is important to respect how any one person chooses to mourn. Some find comfort in solitude, and others need the support of their community.
In a world of man-eating Titans and corrupt military personnel, tomorrow is never guaranteed. We are accustomed to making choices swiftly and without hesitation. But please, when you do have a moment, take the time to sit and reflect. We make choices based on what we find most meaningful to us, which will vary for any one person. Remember that every decision has a reason behind it. Make sure you know that reason and can stand behind it. There are bound to be mistakes along the way, but that is not necessarily a bad thing. If you accept it for what it is, it can guide you more than it can hurt you. Regret is a terrible feeling.
So please.
My dear Maika.
I have but one wish for you.
The world has had its beginning, but it has yet to meet its end. Too much has gone into its making to let it unravel itself now.
Find life and give it to what’s broken.
And in return, life will find you. Freedom will find you.
That is ultimately the biggest picture.
I will not tell you to never give up, to love yourself, or to stay strong. But what I will tell you is that I have faith in you to accomplish those things. You will find your reason for living, and you will find what will help you become the best possible version of yourself. Just know: whatever that may be, and wherever that path may take you, I support you in every way. You are cherished. You are loved. And you can achieve anything you want, no matter where you come from and no matter how high you are reaching.
Good luck.
I will be waiting for you on the other side.
I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me for not being there when you need me the most. I promise to do better in our following lifetimes.
Until we meet again,
Mother.