Your mom's a cunt. [ It comes out bluntly, unbidden. It's not helpful and she knows that. But she doesn't make any effort to seem contrite or take it back.
Part of the issue is simply that Julie's cultural background makes it hard to accept the idea of a truly chaotic universe, where nothing means anything, and every series of events is just happenstance. Both her upbringing and the general world she knew were geared around the idea that things happen for a reason. That there is such a thing as karma and kismet, that the cosmos want balance. That piece of her, so deeply embedded that it cannot be removed, screams for justice. An explanation owed, as to why she would be given this gift but cursed to live somewhere she couldn't ever access it and wouldn't even know why she felt its absence. It weeps for the time lost, the education stolen. Everything she can never have because she had to die to get here.
And it hurts, hurts to know that she can long for those things all she wants, but there will never be an answer, because the truth is probably closer to the opposite. That there's almost no reason or rhythm to any of it. That she is just a collection of random atoms, born on a random planet. That everything -- her immunity, her resurrection, her magic -- is all complete chance. She wants someone she can be angry at, but there isn't anyone and never will be.
But then what killed her in the first place? That wasn't something random. ]
Yeah, but don't you hafta know there's somethin' worth it out there, to make you keep goin'? Would you have done it all the same if you didn't know you were supposed to be lookin'? [ She didn't know. And she can't say right now whether she would have done things differently, whether she would have left Vegas and run to Boulder, whether she would have just swallowed a fucking bullet when she realized she was alone. Or if knowing this world was waiting would have been enough to make it all worth it. ] I don't know. It just feels fuckin' unfair.
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Part of the issue is simply that Julie's cultural background makes it hard to accept the idea of a truly chaotic universe, where nothing means anything, and every series of events is just happenstance. Both her upbringing and the general world she knew were geared around the idea that things happen for a reason. That there is such a thing as karma and kismet, that the cosmos want balance. That piece of her, so deeply embedded that it cannot be removed, screams for justice. An explanation owed, as to why she would be given this gift but cursed to live somewhere she couldn't ever access it and wouldn't even know why she felt its absence. It weeps for the time lost, the education stolen. Everything she can never have because she had to die to get here.
And it hurts, hurts to know that she can long for those things all she wants, but there will never be an answer, because the truth is probably closer to the opposite. That there's almost no reason or rhythm to any of it. That she is just a collection of random atoms, born on a random planet. That everything -- her immunity, her resurrection, her magic -- is all complete chance. She wants someone she can be angry at, but there isn't anyone and never will be.
But then what killed her in the first place? That wasn't something random. ]
Yeah, but don't you hafta know there's somethin' worth it out there, to make you keep goin'? Would you have done it all the same if you didn't know you were supposed to be lookin'? [ She didn't know. And she can't say right now whether she would have done things differently, whether she would have left Vegas and run to Boulder, whether she would have just swallowed a fucking bullet when she realized she was alone. Or if knowing this world was waiting would have been enough to make it all worth it. ] I don't know. It just feels fuckin' unfair.