Someone else insisting they know what's right for us is unbearable, isn't it?
When you have the power or authority to affect others' lives on their most basic level, I think the kindest thing you can do for them is remain open to questioning yourself. It takes extraordinary circumstances for me to feel totally certain of my decisions.
[ It hurts his heart to read that. There's a million things Harold wants to say here, and he has to pick one. ]
It's not something you can lose, and it's not something that can be taken away from you. But honestly, sometimes it is too painful to live with, so we bury it.
As the Machine liked to remind me, you have to go through all the layers of sorrow, disease, violence and grief before you can get to the hope at the bottom of the box. If you aren't ready to face all of that all the time, I think that's quite understandable. It doesn't excuse anything, it doesn't mean we should be let off the hook for our mistakes, but having a hard time facing your humanity is in some ways the most human thing of all.
[ He thinks keenly and fiercely of John as he types that. ]
[He'll give her that, even though he isn't sure what she thinks applies to him. Pandora's Box; hah, he's very eloquent.]
It doesn't feel like it's buried. If it was, it'd at least feel like there was still something there, right? But it doesn't. It just feels like it's gone.
no subject
When you have the power or authority to affect others' lives on their most basic level, I think the kindest thing you can do for them is remain open to questioning yourself. It takes extraordinary circumstances for me to feel totally certain of my decisions.
no subject
Right. It isn't about whether or not I made the right decision, it's the fact that I was questioning myself after I made it that's important.
[He hesitates for a moment before continuing to type.]
It means I'm not losing what little humanity I have left.
no subject
It's not something you can lose, and it's not something that can be taken away from you. But honestly, sometimes it is too painful to live with, so we bury it.
As the Machine liked to remind me, you have to go through all the layers of sorrow, disease, violence and grief before you can get to the hope at the bottom of the box. If you aren't ready to face all of that all the time, I think that's quite understandable. It doesn't excuse anything, it doesn't mean we should be let off the hook for our mistakes, but having a hard time facing your humanity is in some ways the most human thing of all.
[ He thinks keenly and fiercely of John as he types that. ]
no subject
[He'll give her that, even though he isn't sure what she thinks applies to him. Pandora's Box; hah, he's very eloquent.]
It doesn't feel like it's buried. If it was, it'd at least feel like there was still something there, right? But it doesn't. It just feels like it's gone.