No one listens to you.
You're a babbling mess and everyone can't stand you. Your opinion goes unnoticed in the existence of the afterlife; a soft whisper in a crowd of screaming people. It's not that they don't hear you…it's just that you're broken in their dead eyes.
You're broken.
Unfixable.
You just want to spread equality, but what does it matter anymore? There's no one to preach to, no one to inspire. Only the ghosts of those you call friends; empty shells but living souls.
Equality doesn't MATTER anymore.
You were only six sweeps old when everything was ripped from your weak grasp. Only six sweeps, and for what? Everything you learned sweeps before was going to waste. You were destined to die, somewhere in your mind you knew that. You and your friends still persisted, until the bomb went off and you were dragged away from the scratch.
You're broken.
Eternity only helped you realize this.
You are unlike your friends. You just want it to be RIGHT…like a complex OCD. Don't assume things, don't call names, don't curse without tagging it. And for the love of God, don't act like you're better than them. You're not. Blood means nothing, it is all about character. The syrup in your veins does not speak for you.
Broken…
You thought Beforus was wrong until the arrival of your young ancestors. Everything they dealt with was much more amplified compared to your humble life. They were murdered for being different. Murdered for being unique! Who would have thought? You studied their civilization, breathed the history. How cruel of a planet. You couldn't even fathom why they decided to act this way. It was absurd and absolutely triggering in every way. You accepted it, though.
Earth was quite different. They weren't even Trolls. Earth's sentient species is pink and hornless and they don't pupate at all. Their guardians are people of the same species and one human can grow up to be a guardian themselves. Their reproduction is extremely confusing and alien. Their governments rather reminded you of Beforus, though they can grow pretty violent under certain situations.
You studied, and you studied hard. None of your friends were as immersed as you were. They didn't really care about Earth and different changes…
You did. You are broken.
When your own young ancestor came through a dream bubble, you were extremely excited when he initiated a conversation. Obviously he was open for knowledge ad thirsted for the idea of change. You talked for hours about social change, the equality for everyone. He never said a word after his rough greeting; he just gawked at you with wide eyes and a willing opinion. It warmed your blood pusher knowing you had such an impact on him. You even though you saw the light change in his eyes.
Your friends dragged you away from your pupil, and when you decided to go back, he was gone.
You thought he would be back soon, but you were wrong. You haven't seen him since, besides doomed timelines. You have yet to find the same one, though.
He was broken, just like you.
He shouts and curses and acts like he hates everybody. But he doesn't. He can't kill anybody. Weak in the chest, like you. Unlike everybody else, who slaughters at every turn.
To you, it's okay to be broken. It allows you to see everything that is wrong with existence. It shows you what's perfect, yet you can understand everything that isn't. You can just be you.
Because you're broken.