Mitch-ness (aka, thanks Mitch, you got me writing again, heh)

"You were always smiling, real friendly like, but the way you smiled was so empty it hurt to watch you." (Wolfwood, Trigun)


"We're not God. Not only are our powers limited, we sometimes are driven to become the devil himself." (Wolfwood again, also Trigun (so as to avoid nasty legal battles, heh))

You know, it's funny. On the one hand, it's amusing for others to laugh at my newest little "obsession", and it's amusing to watch others being amused.
On the other hand, I've got good reason to...well, not obsess, heh, but to understand the characters, where they are coming from.

It's always been hard to understand why my own view of the world isn't the one shared by everyone else. Why, even though society says to be an individual, people still attack what they don't agree with or understand. I've got that problem, same as anyone. I've been victim to that, as well.

And so it's been a practice of mine to hide behind goofiness. Don't get me wrong--I really am happy and goofy most of the time.
Yeah, most of it.
But life is very sobering, and it's quick to remind you in case you forget.

I was telling that to Mitch last night, more or less. We both concluded that intelligence is a heavy burden and that it takes maturity to carry it. Ignorance is bliss, a light load, and yet, it makes intelligence all the heavier when the two are swapped out. And with that comes a loss of innocence.

Heh, that reminds me of that essay I wrote back in high school on "The Prince of Tides"....loss of innocence. (And no, I really don't recommend that book. Not only is it 6oo+ pages, it's quite graphic. The irony of it is that the entire book pretty much focuses on not ignoring what happened in the past...and yet this little reader is suppressing what she read. Amusing indeed. ^^;)

I'm constantly experiencing...well, maybe not a loss of innocence so much as a death of being naive. I continue to stare at the world in a quiet shock and bewilderment, wondering why the world acts this way. My faith knows the cold facts well, but still, that doesn't soothe my heart when it cries out at the anguish and suffering others put themselves through. And somehow, I try to carry some of that sorrow, that intelligence for others. Maybe to keep them from forgetting? Or to keep myself from forgetting? Or am I allowing them to forget, but not myself?

Sometimes I sit in bed at night, staring out the window at the stars, which glisten almost coldly, out of reach. Somehow above the petty things we define as emotion. And yet the very things that seem so petty also makes life so worth it, no matter how much it hurts.

Is it worse to have your heart broken from loss, or to avoid being caught in the chance that your heart may be broken some day? I wondered that a lot when I was younger. Still do. I thought hiding away from everyone, keeping them at arm's length would soften the blow for me. I only recently learned in the past year that I wasn't so much afraid of being hurt so much as being afraid of hurting others. I cared so much for others that I didn't want to put them through that. And so I carried their burden of intelligence, making them think I was in bliss all the while.

And yet, sometimes, their own burdens of intelligence intrude into my mists of ignorance, and I see that I hadn't been carrying much, if anything at all. And when that mist of ignorance is broken like that, the burden of intelligence crashes down all the harder. It's just very...heavy. It reminds me that I am not God, but simply, merely, a frail human being trying to live life among the petty things.

Speaking of heavy....sheesh, Mitch, inspiration boy. Heh--you can all thank him (but really, also myself) for that. He got me to thinking last night.

Note: This is not a rant of a depressed person, simply a musing one. Take it as such or I shall send my Red Guards after you! ^_~