[He was fortunate to be raised in the time where texting was as valid as talking, but had the balance of being raised on a farm and having other things to do as he got older to not be raised by a screen. Still, he had a world of patience for this.
For her as he read and digested what was being shared; as he shared in turn.
Someone that could 'listen' and understand really felt like it held a lot of weight- the importance carried with that sort of understanding.]
Some you have to fight to keep- or remember they don't have to be attached to the whole.
Simpler times.
[Not all memories were bad, detached from so much—]
Yeah, the world has that way and such large groups of people having that sway to further that control. Taking fate out of your hands.
Can just make the most of it while we're here. Might be called for a reason, but maybe we can dare to hope for something we want. Even if we gotta fight for it here and there; not a second chance, but a forked path.
Cruel and unfair fate... for the benefit of others.
[Still felt funny to have that weird spark of hope here, how suddenly it was and... strange to notice it. Even now he was more acutely aware of it than usual. Huh.]
Very strange, some place dedicated to the memory of what they wanted me to be. Plastered over walls, in some museum and larger than life statues. Things I never wanted, things they built and shaped to try and make that hope they wanted physical and possessable in other forms.
They made the man they wanted dead a martyr, probably to ease whatever guilt for wanting me dead in the first place.
Wonder that myself at times. I haven't been back to where I was born and raised.
[Too many good memories- why see if that had somehow changed?]
Hope anyone else learning yours is by your own choice. Deserve that much at the very least.
It's given me time to get a feel for things at the most basic. Places to go and listen, watch. Still a lot unknown to deal with.
All the warning they deserve, too. Know exactly what I can do, and how much I can survive having thrown at me to get it done.
no subject
For her as he read and digested what was being shared; as he shared in turn.
Someone that could 'listen' and understand really felt like it held a lot of weight- the importance carried with that sort of understanding.]
Some you have to fight to keep- or remember they don't have to be attached to the whole.
Simpler times.
[Not all memories were bad, detached from so much—]
Yeah, the world has that way and such large groups of people having that sway to further that control. Taking fate out of your hands.
Can just make the most of it while we're here. Might be called for a reason, but maybe we can dare to hope for something we want. Even if we gotta fight for it here and there; not a second chance, but a forked path.
Cruel and unfair fate... for the benefit of others.
[Still felt funny to have that weird spark of hope here, how suddenly it was and... strange to notice it. Even now he was more acutely aware of it than usual. Huh.]
Very strange, some place dedicated to the memory of what they wanted me to be. Plastered over walls, in some museum and larger than life statues. Things I never wanted, things they built and shaped to try and make that hope they wanted physical and possessable in other forms.
They made the man they wanted dead a martyr, probably to ease whatever guilt for wanting me dead in the first place.
Wonder that myself at times. I haven't been back to where I was born and raised.
[Too many good memories- why see if that had somehow changed?]
Hope anyone else learning yours is by your own choice. Deserve that much at the very least.
It's given me time to get a feel for things at the most basic. Places to go and listen, watch. Still a lot unknown to deal with.
All the warning they deserve, too. Know exactly what I can do, and how much I can survive having thrown at me to get it done.