Ramblings
by Cynical Chaos
Disclaimer: I don't own or profit in any way, shape or form from this fic.
The thoughts and emotions represented in this fiction are not those of the original characters.
Neon Genesis Evagelion is owned by Gainax.
The day was boring. To the fiery red head, being bored was as worse a fate as being bested, in any way, shape or form by Shinji. She needed something to do. Or she would go insane, and spend three hours waiting for Shinji to get home before she could finally have something to do. And since waiting would be as boring as doing nothing, Asuka dragged herself off the floor, ignored the pounding in her head, and explored the pitifully small condo that she, Misato and Shinji called home. Her room was normal - that is she had yet to fully unpack, so boxes were neatly stacked in a out-of-the-way corner. Misato's room... she didn't even want to think about attempting to even enter there. Which left... Shinji's room. Oh well. She might as well. So she did. and was moderately surprised to see that it was... neat. As-of-yet unpacked boxes in a corner, bed neatly made, desk orderly. Save for a book which was open. It looked to be, no, was diary. Or journal. Or whatever guys called them. She glanced at the newest entry. And she was shocked at what she found. So she read on. This is what she read.
So what are we? What am I? Who am I? Big questions, asked by everyone at one point or another, all with no answers readily in sight. I once thought that I could lock it all away, just exist; that existence would somehow be enough. And I was wrong. I was wrong. There were several people, all dear to me who showed me that, well, that survival wouldn't be enough. Sure my heart pumps and my brain thinks a lot more than I'd like it to; sure I can drag my body around, but am I really alive, really doing something just by living? No, I'm not. No, I'm not. I'm just sitting around with a blank dull look on my face and watching the stream flow, while everyone around me is busy making the catch of the day.
But is it enough to experience life? Again, no for an answer. Watching the days pass is one evil, and thrusting one's self, sometimes literally, into life's pleasures is the greater. Because, again, nothing ever happens. So what if you're drunk. So what if you've pumped yourself full of hallucinogens and narcotics. So fucking what if you've got the world's biggest prick? Does it really matter? No it does not. It cannot. The joy de vivre can't sustain a man anymore than just breathing will. Or just drinking water. Or just eating food. In one way or another, the lugs will stop breathing, the glass will shatter, the blood veins will become clogged with excess fats. And then the final... What? Adventure? End? Birth? Does it matter? The End will come to all creatures and slowly,
ever
so
slowly
life gives it's last gasp, a brief spasm, and then the rest is just silence. Silence and an never ending pall of gray.
So if life's loves and feasts and parties aren't enough and sideline watching isn't enough, then what is? How do we live? Better yet, how is life defined? Is it a word that can be sought out in the dictionary? No, that isn't right, because then life is the property or quality that distinguishes living organisms from dead organisms and inanimate matter, manifested in functions such as metabolism, growth, reproduction, and response to stimuli or adaptation to the environment originating from within the organism. And that isn't enough. Is life this then? The physical, mental, and spiritual experiences that constitute existence? Perhaps.
BUT THAT STILL ISN"T ENOUGH
