CHARACTER EXPLORATION FOR:
“Statement of Mujun Yukio 2013 February 16th.”
“February 16th, 2013. Two days after the date of love…such a strange thing that is, it appears on our calendars, but no one celebrates the so called ‘holiday'…love, it’s seems like a pointless thing to pursue. Keeping one individual for yourself, not allowing them to have special conditions you have with each other with other people. What’s the point? You endlessly wait until you fulfill your purpose, having children, and even if you can’t you stay with the same person, leaving causes complications. Is there truly such thing as love?
A deep connection to another human being?
Nothing is a deep connection, survival is key, it’s not personal but i am under no obligation to protect or risk my life for another person who i happen to like. Nobody will ever underatand your minds every nook and cranny, no one will accept everything about you. And they’ll end up leaving and dying, love is a construct, we say we have deep connections with each other, to cover up the fact we are selfish monsters only looking out for number 1.
We hide behind a construct of things like 'love’ to keep our 'humanity’, but how did that word get that definition? 'humanity’. Humanity is not sympathy or sorrow for another, it is sympathy for yourself, that the chemicals in your brain may react in a way disrupting our survival, we have sorrow that the person who is weeping might hinder our life span. Love isn’t real—–”
Numbly, the stick built man shambled down the street, the petrichor was strong as he stepped in a few puddles, his bare feet getting wet and dirty from the rain water.
He turned the corner, faint yells and strikes–the normal sounds of the night, echoing in the distance.
He stared down at his pale feet, stepping in the wet spots on the bloody and broken sidewalk.
The casual smell of iron mixed much stronger from the rainy atmosphere in the air. His black orbs narrowed and he stretched his bony digits.
He swirled around and stood tense, a rapid tapping noise coming closer.
He spun round and round, confused where the sound emitted, until some small weight crashed into his waist.
Below him, was a sobbing little boy drenched in blood, he stared down at the boy, amused and concerned.
The boys eyes went the size of dots, his lips trembling and his pupils changing direction quickly.
The boy backed away slowly, picking up space.
Then he saw a man emerge from the same place the child did, and he was hauling it to the boy.
Mujun sighed in contempt, his eyes and being festering with disgust. He reached up and twirled his hair, closing his eyes and simply walking to the boy.
With one quick move, he threw the boy behind, turning and pivoting to the side once the glistening blade tried to slice him. He easily grabbed the mans grip, crushing his wrist and pulling him foward, kicking him in the mid section.
The man hacked, pulling away from Mujun, yet Mujun’s grip was inescapable, in the blink of an eye, the knife was taken from his hand and plunged into his chest, he let the man go and he stumbled back, his tank top blood soaked. But before he hit the ground, Mujun yanked him forward and pushed his neck in the other direction, a crack resonating on the street. He flopped on the floor and Mujun turned to the boy, who stared at him in fear and admiration. holding out his hand, Mujun softly grinned.
“It is an illusion, a lie we tell ourselves; we all are just selfish, wanting to be wanted, not fully caring for the person we pursue. We all are narcissists and self deprecators, scared we are unlovable so we seek it out, we do things to make people crave us, until they do, and we like to be selfish and keep them to ourselves, telling them honey lies…what a sad lie we have created.”
“End of statement.”