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Mar. 6th, 2006 09:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morganknightWhat do you do when you discover people you love are not the people you thought they were?
I can't approve of torture, not for the sole purpose of causing pain. I just can't. But that doesn't mean I approve of slavery. It doesn't mean I'm chasing some vision of a utopia where I can just change the minds of anyone who's doing a bad thing. If... If...
If they really don't know me so well, then maybe I should have been listening to that little voice inside me, that all along has been telling me they're just laughing at me, they keep me around because they find me amusing. They certainly were ready to think the worst of me as soon as I dared to express an opinion different to theirs, on a subject serious to all of us.
I don't know. I just don't know what to say, or do. Evil things done to evil people are not less evil. I can't just sit by and let them do it, any more than I could sit by and watch a child being beaten, or a girl being raped. It's wrong. Wrong in principle, wrong in practice. It's bad enough that I know they're doing it, I know it's happening, and I'm not out there stopping it right now. That nags at my conscience and twists in my gut.
The worst thing is knowing this could cost me so much of what I've been chasing. This is the price I pay for trying.
The one consolation in my life right now is Emmy, who I'm doing well by. So much to do there. I'm not prepared to be a parent, I'm sure there's so many things I'm missing and neglecting. I should ask Stephen's parents for advice. If they're still speaking to me. I don't know what anyone has told Cat or Stephen, now, but I wouldn't be surprised if someone has blasted me for "being on the slavers' side" in their presence. How much they'll believe I don't know. I haven't heard from them, or anyone, since Thursday. Part of me thinks they're waiting for me to come back and apologize and agree to cheerfully torture and murder in their names. Part of me hopes that they're just too busy, it's just too soon for them to try with the incident fresh in their mind.
What I fear most is what I suspect most; that already I'm written off, and life now goes on without me.
Diast has been gone for over a month now. Come back, love. Come back soon.
I can't approve of torture, not for the sole purpose of causing pain. I just can't. But that doesn't mean I approve of slavery. It doesn't mean I'm chasing some vision of a utopia where I can just change the minds of anyone who's doing a bad thing. If... If...
If they really don't know me so well, then maybe I should have been listening to that little voice inside me, that all along has been telling me they're just laughing at me, they keep me around because they find me amusing. They certainly were ready to think the worst of me as soon as I dared to express an opinion different to theirs, on a subject serious to all of us.
I don't know. I just don't know what to say, or do. Evil things done to evil people are not less evil. I can't just sit by and let them do it, any more than I could sit by and watch a child being beaten, or a girl being raped. It's wrong. Wrong in principle, wrong in practice. It's bad enough that I know they're doing it, I know it's happening, and I'm not out there stopping it right now. That nags at my conscience and twists in my gut.
The worst thing is knowing this could cost me so much of what I've been chasing. This is the price I pay for trying.
The one consolation in my life right now is Emmy, who I'm doing well by. So much to do there. I'm not prepared to be a parent, I'm sure there's so many things I'm missing and neglecting. I should ask Stephen's parents for advice. If they're still speaking to me. I don't know what anyone has told Cat or Stephen, now, but I wouldn't be surprised if someone has blasted me for "being on the slavers' side" in their presence. How much they'll believe I don't know. I haven't heard from them, or anyone, since Thursday. Part of me thinks they're waiting for me to come back and apologize and agree to cheerfully torture and murder in their names. Part of me hopes that they're just too busy, it's just too soon for them to try with the incident fresh in their mind.
What I fear most is what I suspect most; that already I'm written off, and life now goes on without me.
Diast has been gone for over a month now. Come back, love. Come back soon.
