Lessons In Humanity
The Personal Log of Zuul Srchai ★
My sacrifice meant little to anyone. My attempt to help, everyone was proud that I tried. But my loss was great, much like my blood, where I was left lying in, with the door having slammed shut. Part of me was never coming back, left with those who would live their lives in some sweat shop until they served their use. I only served as an excuse to ignite conversations of banning them from this place, from our home. Of what kind of war that could bring with the alliance that was set. Peaceful people, some began to want to turn towards war. Not the young, but the old. The spark of losing their families, of the elder mothers losing their children. But there would be no call to arms, this was not the Alliance's doing. Nor was it something they would approve of. We could not treat them all as one clan.
Humans were cruel and selfish, only in that moment, in that time. Before that, they were looked at as a possible people to be welcomed in, accepted into our homes and treated as one of our own. A hope for discretion and possibly even willing to accept our ways, and being able to help one another. The way that we would other clans. But peace is the way, the only way. I was given this opportunity to watch my family crack and break as they watched me suffer, waiting to see if I would live or die. And how I might try to live after. My honor was whole, my life was not. My life would not be again.
It is not up to us to be like this. It is not up to us to give what we gain back, but not to be manipulated through it, not to willingly give up on our own or ourselves to be a doormat for someone who only cares for themselves and what they believe is their own or what they believe they deserve.
There are times where they leave this behind, or perhaps are without it on their own. There are people that come through and want to help those that are not of the same status or place as them, and some that only come together due to it. In the toughest of times, they hold pride and care for one another, they face trials and tribulations together. But once it is over, there seems to be less to hold onto. Less to eagerly care to be part of. I will strive to be around those that do.
I seek truth, but not all of it is mine to have. I realize this, I am not here to reign in on someone's metaphorical parade. I do not care for the secrets of others. I have my own. To do or say otherwise would make me hypocrite. This is not the path I wish to ever live by, not the hill I wish to die upon. Motivations influence and effect others in a mind blowing effect that I hadn't expected. Pieces to the puzzle come together slowly, but not always do we have time to inspect someone's intentions as that is hardly what matters in the end. Even among themselves. Intent only holds true in malicious acts, but there is forever a punishment, only a less severe one in such instances.
Truth is not blind, it is not devoid of color, it is not one person's belief on the situation or a subject. A person's truth is their perception, not what it should or could be. People are faulty, humans especially. And they admit to it, as though it is a struggle, a curse, but also an advantage. If only they all treated it as such. In the end, it's all words and they only mean so much to each. A thing to say to your face while other things are thought and said.
What more can be done, but if it within humanity to lie, what more effective tool could there possibly be to appear to be one, in the end? Rather than simply not explain, to move away from a topic, but to flat out speak in such a way that is not the truth. To become cunning and deceptive, no matter how wrong it feels. With the way that some are able to do it, it likely grows on them in time. A routine that grew to become a part of them, as if some limb of a tree as it stands tall.
And I am still sorry for it.
Songs, stories, applications, lives are dedicated to the ideals of love. People are joined by hands, by arms, and lips where ever one goes. And there are so many forms of it. Sometimes, it feels as though they must place a name on everything that they possibly can, to create as many names as possible on everything to complicate it when it should be simple. As simple as reasoning. But there is yet still a lack of necessary words to explain the depths of their own cares. They focus on complicating things, rather than making them simple.
Each person wishes to be special, even if why they are special and wanted seems to be misplaced. Along with self blame and finger pointing, all with varying level of effectiveness. Getting to know someone holds only in short bursts of time, and then a level of assumption is held about the character of a person. Most appear to be more about the superficial, for level of attractiveness. I'm still a little concerned about what they choose to do with holopics whether at bars or alone. The explanations before were still lacking in depth.
I lack value here, for the sake of not being someone's perception of me. They wish for something to tell a story of, someone that runs along the line of the one playing in their mind. No matter the words spoken, it is only heard and accepted in the way they believe that story goes. Playing a tune of some heartfelt love song, struck by lightening for their sins. I accept my part in this. And I accept my ability to walk away.