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normalonline · 8 days

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It's Never Over

The "World Wars" from an American perspective are somewhat meaningless affairs. My great grandfather fought in the first war and the only story I ever heard about it was that he apparently ate a cat while he was over there. It's best understood from an English or German perspective. Some element of untaggable and unspoken pride when into their time that is forgotten. Who they were, what they knew, all extinguished by the striking imagery and memories of the trenches. The first war of this kind was not what we call the two "world wars" but rather the religious league wars of the 17th century. That was a conflict of ideology or faith, cities burned, a war for annihilation and supremacy of the continent in perpetuity. It ended with a peace that basically began the notion that completely wiping another group, an enemy, off the face of the planet was impossible. This was the beginning of the "live and let live" mindset which has watered down civilization today.

Why did I just expound boringly about all that history? Because I wanted to, but also because it's the background for part of my main point. We can't kill ourselves. The plural group. Sure the individual can, one could even take a few others with them if they wanted to. But we as humans will always be here on Earth until the last day which will never come. The belief that we can end ourselves, more specifically the fearmongering about it in the forms of global warming, nuclear war, etc. are because the small minded people who perpetuate these claims are themselves scared. They aren't scared of death however. Their fear is the same that drove kings to madness. That they aren't in control. They were born into this world without choice just as we will all one day unceremoniously leave it. "But surely this must all be for me?" one might conclude. Our lives tailored by the desire of other forces to control us want this to be believed. We live in the century of the self. The internal life which can only be fulfilled by externalities, very convenient.

We do, or at least a certain class of people who are living with a collective trauma of past war and death, do want us to be able to kill ourselves. And not simply have the capacity to do so but to follow through with it. The things we do to ourselves collectively has delivered them to this conclusion. Before the outbreak of the first world war, we had electrified our cities, invented great machines, created aircraft which only a few decades ago had appeared impossible to them. As a sidenote, this momentum is what allowed man to go to the Moon half a century after flight was invented. In many ways it was the last gasp of greater ambition. But regardless, all these great things and where did it lead us back to? The worst war in history. An entire generation of European men completely erased from the world. And of course this happened two times in a row. All this isn't to say war conceptually is bad, although is surely isn't good. It's just an experience. It's mass suicide, but it isn't total. The second war was an attempt at totality. Civilians were killed in large numbers. It's almost poetic that the final act of it was the detonation on a bomb designed to kill civilians. This began a new great hope for those who hated God and themselves because they knew implicitly that they were children of God. The memetic force of the nuclear bomb was extremely potent and even to this day people believe that the term nuclear war is synonymous with apocalypse. Of course this isn't true. At the height of the Cold War the most catastrophic event possible was the destruction of between 100-200 cities and the deaths of maybe 200 million people in a world of at the time over 3 billion. But the fear of that and the belief in it kept people sane. Until that threat ended as a reasonable fear.

Not a decade after that, global warming became a major concern. But of course that fear doesn't carry the same weight. It's too abstract, unspecified. The knowledge that we'll be here forever has fully permeated the collective unconscious. This is what has led to all sorts of bad things. Specifically the promulgation of assisted suicide and transgenderism. To start which the more popular issue first. Transgenderism is the living denial of a force outside the self. That one might will their own person into existence. God punishes this type of insolence as we can see be just how unhappy these people are. In studies, the rate of a narcissistic personality disorder among transgenders is around 50%. Which is radically high in case you weren't aware (lol). One is born into this world as they are, nature is uncontrollable and this fantasy is a further extension of the false belief that we have transcended the bonds of this world. To the problem of assisted suicide, which is now legal in many countries. This is suicide without responsibility, the essence of this whole essay. It's voluntary murder. I read a story the other week about a Dutch woman in her late 20s with no health issues who decided to undergo assisted suicide. The fact that this was news is interesting. People commit suicide every day, no one seems to really care. But this happens and it's global news. Why didn't she do it herself? It's a difficult question but likely due to a sense of learned helplessness of some form, coupled with a desire for the sensational and dramatic. Nearly every problem in society can be traced back to this core issue of a desire for total destruction. This is what's behind birthrates in many countries far below the point of replacement. This is the root of the immigration question: because if one cannot destroy all life they surely can destroy the humanity most like themselves and turn their nations into "melting pots" of no meaning.

We can't kill ourselves, but the pursuit of that fantasy is making the world into a place increasingly less worth living in.

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spencerholmesda · 4 years

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Dear Soulmate,

It's one AM and I'm staring at the moon... it's pretty tonight. I like to look at it and think you are too... a tether between the two of us. Connecting us even though we don't know who the other is. At least we know ourselves... or at least learn ourselves.

As a child I watched the stars twinkle and grew lucky enough to wish on a falling star.

I wished to be a Princess.

I should have wished for something else.

What many people tend to forget is that they are outranked by the Queen.

In the end the Princess gets a short end of a stick with all the expectations of the Queen and none of the power.

The expectation to stand calm and handle insults from a man who doesn't know their station. From a man who insults and tries to take and take from the kingdom.

Yet no power to banish the criminal from the Kingdom and no power to refuse them when they return to the Palace doors.

The expectation to stay sane and debate Cooly with the man who lied and spread rumors of the royal family.

Yet none of the power to strike back and defend your home.

The expectation to sympathize with the cause and speak of justice.

Yet no power to walk alongside the troops in battle.

The Princess, pretty with no cares in the world, watching helplessly from behind a window and forced to play politics to keep peace. No matter how much pride they're forced to swallow.

What a silly notion though isn't it? For the Princess to weep behind the castle gates? Why should she weep with her jewels and feasts and the glittering gowns?

So she doesn't, fighting her battles alone be it dark or light and she keeps her head up for she must not ever let the crown fall.

Letting the crown fall is an unforgiving sin and dropping it in front of another is a treason that no amount of time in the dungeon can remedy. Yet as much as being the Princess is a struggle...

I suspect that being Queen comes with a bittersweet flavor as she's outranked by the King which comes at another cost that I can't yet understand.

A cost that causes the King to sleep within five minutes of stillness. A cost that brings down his health and while he begs the Queen to trust to lean on him, he refuses to do the same for fear of worrying his Queen.

I'm aware that someday I will rise in title, but I always wonder if it's a necessity and if I will have the power to change such things that bother me about the Crown.

You see that day I wished on a star, I did not only wish for a tiara, but for happiness. Seeing the King and Queen who precede me, I wonder if it's possible to have both as in my lifetime , such a thing is starting to look impossible.

What would you do? Would you rise through the ranks and rule your kingdom or would you rather bow down to a ruler who may be corrupt?

It's a struggle that I still find myself contemplating, especially when I'm subject to witness the castles halls whispering what they think of my destiny and whether I have control of it, or if it's written in the stars and I'm doomed to follow their path.

Regardless of my decisions, I know that only I can decide my station.

What about you Soulmate? Are you out there pondering these same questions or are you one of the few who know what they wish for in life?

All I know for certain, is that regardless of my station. I decide my own happiness and regardless of my station.... I will finally have the power I seek.

From a Princess to her Soulmate...

I look forward to ruling our kingdom someday and am eager to better what our predecessors couldn't.

sincerely ,

your little dragon

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#wattpad #my writing #shda #female #dragonalpha #dear soulmate #princess #letter 1 #letter2 #spencer’s rants #spencerholmes #spencerholmesdragonalpha

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agreementtale · 4 years

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Chapter 10: Knock Knock

“So no one dusted you yet” she said before he could even knock.

“getting worried ‘bout me, old gal?” he teased, letting himself fall on his usual spot at the door.

A sarcastic laugh echoed from inside, he didn’t know much about acoustics, but he would bet it sounded like a big room, with long halls “Just wondering how no monster caught someone with such a predicable routine”

“believe me or not I'm really hard to track…. and that's not the only thing that's hard ‘bout me” said in a mocking tone.

“You are late, punctually 40 minutes late. I would think about rescheduling our meetings if i didn't knew that you would show up 40 minutes late anyway”

“so I’ve been bad” he adjusted his thick coat, closing it to better protect his ribs “ya want to punish me?” teased again, hearing the expected laughter.

“Oh you would certainly wish so” He thanked the stars for her mood today.

“I know ya LOVE me~” he purred, her laugh through the door always made him less miserable, she was the one person he knew wouldn't kill him... mostly because she was locked behind a magic sealed door, the fact that she was lonely enough to like his jokes was a huge bonus “ya were dying to hear my sexy voice”

“How pretentious!” She said with mock offense, thinking about it, not just today… she was on an incredible good mood lately “I was just here, sitting by myself killing time~”

“sounds like a party, what else yer killing lately?” She shifted through a constant set of moods weekly, between happy, sad, murderous, and apathetic, then back again to happy. This happy strike was taking two months, he was almost fearing the sad drawback and how it would affect the reclusive monster.

“Not much, I've been keeping myself busy most of the time” well that was unexpected.

“yer building new puzzles or some shit like that?” She had talked extensively that there was nothing to do in the Ruins except the puzzles that she maintained them as a part of monster forgotten culture and history.

She laughed warmly, last time he heard that laugh he was telling her about the first time little Papyrus used healing magic “Well you might say there is something puzzling about them”

“welp, whatever 'they' are it's working for ya” he thought about telling her she sounded happy, and mentally kicked himself for it, door or not, showing weakness was still showing weakness “haven't sound batshit crazy for a while”

“Aaarrrg” she hissed, didn't sound like the usual reptile monster, too much throat, too little forked tongue, he would have to cross that from the list “you insult me” the sound came from a place a little higher this time, and there was shuffling around her, shit, she had gotten up, he just wanted to nitpick, not to actually spoil her mood.

“h-hey come on, old gal, ya know yer one of the few sane people down this hole, huh?” She stopped moving with his pleading lie, sane was the wrong word, but talking to her was easily the safest moment of his day, she couldn't kill him and would always tell when someone else was approaching the door “just, just stay a little longer, just, just throw me a bone here, will ya?” Safety was not something he was willing to mess with.

“Well” to his relief she didn't sound angry, she was amused “since someone is so desperate to spill his guts out, I could stay for a little longer” she hated the word crazy, wasn't she even a little mad at him? “What is new out there?”

“look like I dig my grave back here huh?” He hated to sound desperate “I’m just curious, it’s all”

“I do hope you are not a cat monster then”

“wha–/” they never spoke about what kind of monsters they were, not that he wasn’t curious, but deep down he was glad she never asked “why?” Didn't she want–/

“Because curiosity killed it“

...

“fuck”

He held himself not to laugh too much, but failed.

“I walked right into this one”

“Indeed” her voice was warm and inviting, thank the stars he hadn't messed up.

He clutched his nearly healed ribs, each laugh sending a shot of pain to his spine, still worth it, he needed this laugh.

“But seriously, do tell”

“well snowdin is still a shithole, the dogs keep giving Boss a hard time” and making him angrier every day “Grillby's still good tho, best burgers, great drinks, free mustard”

“And what is bothering you, my friend?” For someone going only by his voice, she was almost as perceptive as he was.

He leaned his head on the door, closing his eyes, clinging to her last word “ya know me” his bones protested the new position, he could still feel the hard punches breaking his ribcage and the hateful stare “nothing gets under my skin” he shouldn't have overslept again, he knew Boss would get mad, he was asking for it at this point. “what about ya? nothing to share? the new found key to happiness?”

She was silent for a long moment, he was almost worried that she had caught on something else on his voice, but quickly dismissed it, he had kept his usual smile on place, no one could tell that something was wrong when he managed to keep his smile.

“They happened” she said almost apologetically “I am keeping them on the Ruins, they are safe here” well now it sounded less like a puzzle and more like an actual monster.

“who's the lucky fella?”

“A child” she confirmed his suspicion.

“a child, huh?” it made sense for her being happy, monster children were so rare these days, the last one he heard of was born 20 years ago, didn't developed right, still a small toddler to this day, not that he from all people, could say something about it.

“Well... two children, as far as I can tell…” he could hear the smile on her voice “one keeps hiding from me, but still stay near every time he thinks I'm not looking, and the older one is so sweet, they insist in saying they are siblings, and calling the smaller their brother” she laughs “he always scoffs at them, but I believe the feeling is mutual”

“heh, seems like ya got yerself a new family”

“Do you think so?” She sounded hopeful, more than he had ever heard her “Do you think I...” And she started laughing, but as it progressed it shifted from the warm tone to a more darker one “they… called me mother” the following hiccup sounded awfully like a sob “mother”.

He hadn't heard her cry in a long, long time “hey, don't let the runts get to ya” he didn't knew what to do, an open show of emotions like this was not something normal people did, but he sure as hell wanted to do something for her “ya don't have to go on adopting every–/”

“But I want to!” She wailed, shit, what did he do this time? “Is… the thing I… most want in *sob* in this world… to be *sob* called mother again”

He tried to say something, but he didn't know what, unwilling to say something to upset her even more, he just let her cry. Stars, she sounded as bad as when she guilt tripped him to make that promise… not that she knew she was guilt tripping him… There was no way she figured he was the one that handed the green soul to Asgore.

“I just… I can't lose any more children” shit… “how could I lose them?!” Shit, shit, what does he say?

“ya ain't gonna lose anyone” it's a blatant fake generic lie, but it made the crying noise pause “yer the strongest monster down there, right?” he tried to make his voice sound gentle.

If she wasn't strong, she wouldn't be able to sense the presence of people approaching, not from the other side of a magical door. There was a quiet murmur in response, he considered it an affirmative.

“i bet ya can scare anyone from messing with them” he knew she could, on her murderous days she could be terrifying, a dark aura screaming LV.

“I… I could…” she said “but I… I don’t think it’s necessary...” Why? Wasn't she scared of them getting killed a second ago? The mood shifts were not usually that quick “They… they befriended everyone”

…

“what?”

A small laugh just deepened his confusion.

“what do ya mean they befriended…”

“They” she was catching her breath “they made friends, with every monster on the Ruins” every strong monster he thought, everyone that mattered “from the weakest Whimsun to… well… me”

“how?” The surprise was evident, there was no way, the Ruins couldn't be all that friendlier than the rest of the Underground, it was impossible.

“Well” she said happiness surging again on her voice, a little bit of pride too “They are very determined“

He froze.

DT didn't sit well with monsters, he knew that.

She didn't know he knew that.

Hell! Most monsters couldn't even name the seven major soul traits, so as far as she knew he couldn't either…

And the only other time he heard her crying was when he told her the king had gathered another soul… another human soul…

“fuck”

He quickly covered his mouth, as if it would take the words away… it was only a whisper… maybe she hadn't heard him… she couldn’t know he knew.

“good thing they are” he managed to keep his voice even “sounds like a real sweetheart this one…” he had to make a joke to fake normality “having to worry about fights would be a major buzzkill for ‘em”

“Ha, ha, ha, indeed! They are just too sweet for this world”

“heh… a… a little angel right?”

She hesitated.

He cursed himself, of course that she would know of the prophecy, she was old, old monsters loved those things

“Yes” seem to be thinking, but not cautious, had caught the meaning, but not the joke, if he could guess “They are my little angel” said nostalgic “and I will smite anyone who try take them from me” this wasn't her murderous tone, wasn't a threat either, didn't even have killing intent behind it... it was just a fact.

“I'm sure ya will keep ‘em safe old gal” he didn't want to act on that promise… it was treason… who knows who he would have to dust to keep a surface spawn safe... his brother could have serious problems if the word got out “really safe on yer cozy house”

“I will!” She sounded so proud it pained him “I already have most of the books necessary for their education and I’m teaching them to cook and sew as well”

“good, good” he got up, he needed air “I have to go old gal, keep babying the little runts, will ya”

“I certainly will”

He walked away, another human was not what he was expecting, not for another decade

“And friend”

He stopped, anxiety clawing its way into his ribcage.

“Thank you”.

She knew.

He couldn't take it, teleported to Grillby's. It was still the middle of his shift, he grabbed his ribs on reflex of the phantom pain, Boss would be pissed, but he really needed a drink.

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