Void.

I once made up my mind to care; yet these days the restrospective returns seem chiefly grief and pain. Everytime people tell I'm doing great I have to wonder what exactly it is they're looking at while my life and identity crumble around me. I am nothing, no one; an apparently impregnable shell impervious to the malicious darts of the world and the devil. So many are just blind to the fact that walls are built for a purpose, a shelter for the vulnerable heart and mind. This calls to mind the oyster, wherein invasive impurities become the cores of luscious pearls. Our defensive mechanisms work similarly to insulate, but these layers erected outside of our essence strive towards monstrosity and hermeticism. Alas, our greatest enemies are truly within; the heart and mind we seek to protect eventually betray us to cause grievous, efficacious hurt where a mortal enemy might only dream of reaching. Though seemingly an exercise in futility, the question is whether it is better to leave oneself open to harm inside and out or to just keep building that wall in hopes that the the traitorous self lays low another day longer. It's not the first the thought has crossed my mind to not care anymore - shirking the heavy responsibility that frankly chokes, chafes and slowly drags under. Should I be depressed that the only viable outlet for my frustrations is will never be read by those who matter? Or is it a blessing that anonymity still provides such an illusion of safety?

The Naked Man

Credits to the writers of How I Met Your Mother. This stuff is poetry... "By the sum of his parts he is just a man But what he does with those parts he becomes so much more He may not fit society’s definition of a hero... ... He lives in the shadows Is he a dream, truth, fiction, damnation, salvation? He is all these things and none of them; For he is – the Naked Man" Paired so perfectly with evocative imagery - a balding middle-ager in a trench-coat striding down the dimly lit sidewalk, stopping only long enough to purchase a hotdog from a street vendor before fading into the dark of night. The quintessential misunderstood ally of justice - a hundred protagonists of the comic strip and silver screen rolled into one. Right, and now everyone knows how far behind the times I am with all these serials...

Ebon Pensiveness

It's not always easy to take God at His word. Especially when disappointments come time after time and there's no one you can tell because everyone else is already overloaded with issues of their own. It's one thing not seeing any kind of personal breakthrough or transformation in the lives of those placed into your stewardship. It's another thing entirely to feel irrelevant to the point of suspicion that everyone and everything is probably better off without you. How did I get to this point? I can't even begin to answer that question. God, maybe you can tell me...

Sigh.

What do you do?

You have a night full of interrupted sleep; morning finds you fatigued. The important people you try to contact suddenly seem to have dropped off the grid. When you go out, you miss every bus on your route. What do you do?

Pray and believe for something better.

Those Little Moments...

Odd that I'd experience nostalgia at something like this, but it's been so long that I'd almost forgotten how wonderful short bus rides can be with the right company.

I took the bus back with my Eldest, and discussed briefly religion, politics and her future education; one of those father-daughter things. I truly was proud and happy to see her earne her leadership position, but now I truly get the sense that my young Padawan has grown up.

It really moved something in me when she said she'd look for me the next time she had a question. Earlier in the evening, my younger Padawan (finally almost an SP) had announced loudly to some of the newer members than I was his mentor.

I thought my days of mentoring them were over when everyone in my little unit was reassigned, but it looks like God may have other ideas after all.

I feel an odd blend of age, satisfaction and excitement I cannot quite explain.

Return to Seed.

Watching Gundam Seed Destiny for what is probably the 3rd time, and only now do I realise that only at the end of episode 45 does the Archangel fly with a full crew. Can't imagine how much power it would have had as the flagship of a full space fleet with 4 specialist mobile suits, 2 support aircraft, as well as 1 squadron each of Murasames and M1-Astrays.

In contrast the Minerva that did serve as fleet command never did appear anywhere near as impressive even when mostly served by a full staff and 5 ZAFT Reds. Even the Takemikazuchi had more presence in the few short episodes it was in.

It's kinda sad to realise that all I can think of in watching old anime again is how useful the content would be to elaborate on Social Studies topics.

Savannah.

There's just something magical about looking down from a height across the green with the wind blowing in your face and the sun plays through the clouds while listening to the Lion King OST.

It's like being on Pride Rock until i look left or right to remember this is just NIE block 3, level 2. Meh.