Have you ever spoken to the Creator? Have you ever spoken to any of them? How do you know how it works then? Maybe he wants a girl what is bold enough to do it. Then he might leave me alone.
[In Paris, she couldn't talk to anyone. She had to accept her lot as lower than the dirt on the street. She had to accept she was going to die of starvation or murder and that nobody would care when it happened. She had to accept that she had nothing. And she did. She lived passively, drifting like a ghost through the streets. But here, there is possibility and life and money and friends, but there's pain and a poverty Eponine can't put into words.]
I am fed up of not being able to have anything here. You know, in Paris where I am from? I had nothing. I had no shoes and I wore rags. My belt and my ribbon were strings. But the little I had, the paper and the tobacco and the bottle of drink what I stole? They were mine. Here, there is so much I can have, but none of it is mine. It belongs to the dominants. Can you understand how cruel it is that I can see it so close and yet, none of it can ever truly be mine?
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Date: 2024-04-09 03:12 pm (UTC)[Eponine shrugs, defiant.]
Have you ever spoken to the Creator? Have you ever spoken to any of them? How do you know how it works then? Maybe he wants a girl what is bold enough to do it. Then he might leave me alone.
[In Paris, she couldn't talk to anyone. She had to accept her lot as lower than the dirt on the street. She had to accept she was going to die of starvation or murder and that nobody would care when it happened. She had to accept that she had nothing. And she did. She lived passively, drifting like a ghost through the streets. But here, there is possibility and life and money and friends, but there's pain and a poverty Eponine can't put into words.]
I am fed up of not being able to have anything here. You know, in Paris where I am from? I had nothing. I had no shoes and I wore rags. My belt and my ribbon were strings. But the little I had, the paper and the tobacco and the bottle of drink what I stole? They were mine. Here, there is so much I can have, but none of it is mine. It belongs to the dominants. Can you understand how cruel it is that I can see it so close and yet, none of it can ever truly be mine?