Could we banish

Why do we forgive? So that we can forget.



My apologies for the lingering drama in my previous post; I will continue to put it down to the effect of the Compulsion. There is no rational reason for the imagery I used in describing the events; while my flair for the dramatic may exceed it's boundaries at times, that story was one which I had no desire to write in anything but the simplest of terms. But when I began writing, the words poured from me when I imagined that deity-like face standing over me.

I'd rather not dwell on it, so much as I'd like to tell on the matter of Vanitas.

My assumption then was quite correct; she is, and always has been, a servant of the Tall Strider. The common term for this is "proxy", but I have taken an immediate dislike to this term. See it's dictionary definitions: here are the relevant ones.

1. the agency, function, or power of a person authorized to act as the deputy or substitute for another.
2. the person so authorized; substitute; agent.
4. an ally or confederate who can be relied upon to speak or act in one's behalf.

The third definition is quite irrelevant; these definitions are the relevant ones. This term, to me, seems to be something that the enemies of the "proxies" have given to them, not a title they chose for themselves; certainly, I can see why the second and fourth definitions would be attractive to them, but I digress. Labelling them all under the title of "proxy", to me, seems rather distancing; it makes us imagine two camps of people. The "Runners" (those who flee from the Aspects) and the "Proxies" (their servants).

You would think that, by now, we would have realised why this is a bad idea; if you treat your 'enemy' poorly, you insure that they will become your enemy. You force a wretched cycle of hatred and despair, which only furthers the Strider's aims; I do not claim to know what they are, but the Strider is an Aspect. Whatever aim they may have is certainly a diabolical one, or at least not something I'd be a part of.

But I have wandered around the point for long enough; let us return to it.

The morning after the Strider's descent, I found myself facing Vanitas once more. I will not quote our conversation; it ended in what I would dub a "domestic dispute", and the two of us parted ways an hour later, that we could enjoy the benefits of our work. Several hours later, we found ourselves opposing each other once more. This time, tired; worn out; no desire to argue.

We... sorted things out. You must forgive me, again, for not remembering precise words; the thrust of the statements were what caught me, not the words themselves. I have had an epiphany; my heart has been turned.

I bought into the propaganda of the Runners; I fell into the "us versus them" mentality. Despite the evidence staring me in my face (one should only look at the Messenger's blog for some of this evidence), I did not believe it; although it was not intentional on my half, I fell into the darkness of stupidity. I scarcely believed the proxies human; they were the enemy, and sympathy should not be wasted on them over the Runners.

But Vanitas has showed me this: they, too, are human, just as I am human. Some of them are better human beings then Runners could hope to be; there are the amoral psychopaths on their side, just as there are on ou- what am I saying? There are no sides here.

Everyone is a victim, or will be a victim: nobody escapes the Supremacy. All humans should be pitied; should be supported. There is only one fate for us all, regardless of how we come to it; we should not be striking at each other when it is only in our union can we find happiness. To reach across the gap and to hold hands; to meet our end with no regrets. Whether it be the Strider, the Teacher, the drones of the Supremacy or the Shifters: we will all be taken, sooner or later.

That there may be no escape does not mean that there is no hope. If you live a life of happiness, then what regret should we feel at any suffering that comes to us? We accept the adversity and grow strong; perhaps, one day, we will have our happy endings. But that day is not now; we are too divided. We are not together. We are falling apart at the seams.

Let us finish this. Let us cling together, just as the two of us have.

-Achromatic Morality-