Insanity's keeping
(the Other side of Schwarz, III)
Just attempting to get a handle on Farfarello's character.
~oOo~
Are you there God? Do you even exist? Am I railing away at a fallacy? Just to convince myself that I'm not really crazy. Am I? Maybe I'm the last of the sane.
They all watch me. They think I have no self-control. Well, except for the German. He knows. We are not so very different, he and I. We are both lost in a world that doesn't care about our mental health. It only wants us to vanish. He with his voices, and I with... I'm still not sure what it is. My insanity? What my old neighbour once called 'the sight'?
They see me as crazy. I may well be. But at least I do not pretend to be something other than I am. The boy, pretending to be 'normal'. With his deranged girlfriend, and his little sighs over the youngest kitten, that he thinks we don't notice. But the boy is young. He always will be. And if he is a touch naive, then we will do something about him. But not before.
And our leader. 'Guilt' calls him our 'fearless' leader. But Schuldich is not guilty, and our leader is a coward. He uses his abilities to avoid danger. That is not fearless. If he cannot avoid trouble, then he flings himself into the fray, and fights like the berserker they named me. That is not brave. That is stupid. And yet he is the first to insult our intelligence.
And my Guilty one. He is not guilty. Like us all, he had no choice. But he has made something of himself. He chooses to hide behind a shield, not of normality, or 'courage' but of the worst type of knave. He poses. A smirk, a wink, and people think the worst of him. But I know. He does not deserve all of the names they call him. Some, yes, but no, not all.
I have often thought on why I feel no pain, is it a shield? Am I truly immune to the sensation? Or is it just a symptom of the madness that so many others see in me? I... perhaps I will never know.
Cast adrift in an uncaring world, and needing something indefinable. I need... A straightjacket, the boy says. Medication, our not so fearless leader says. And my crazy, guilty German? He just laughs, and says that I need to get laid. The ultimate hipocrisy, since he preaches a plan of action that he himself would never contemplate.
But until I find what I am searching for, I will wait with my sinner, and we will share the companionship of our insanity.
~oOo~
Do any of these little pieces make any sense to anyone? Kend
Just attempting to get a handle on Farfarello's character.
~oOo~
Are you there God? Do you even exist? Am I railing away at a fallacy? Just to convince myself that I'm not really crazy. Am I? Maybe I'm the last of the sane.
They all watch me. They think I have no self-control. Well, except for the German. He knows. We are not so very different, he and I. We are both lost in a world that doesn't care about our mental health. It only wants us to vanish. He with his voices, and I with... I'm still not sure what it is. My insanity? What my old neighbour once called 'the sight'?
They see me as crazy. I may well be. But at least I do not pretend to be something other than I am. The boy, pretending to be 'normal'. With his deranged girlfriend, and his little sighs over the youngest kitten, that he thinks we don't notice. But the boy is young. He always will be. And if he is a touch naive, then we will do something about him. But not before.
And our leader. 'Guilt' calls him our 'fearless' leader. But Schuldich is not guilty, and our leader is a coward. He uses his abilities to avoid danger. That is not fearless. If he cannot avoid trouble, then he flings himself into the fray, and fights like the berserker they named me. That is not brave. That is stupid. And yet he is the first to insult our intelligence.
And my Guilty one. He is not guilty. Like us all, he had no choice. But he has made something of himself. He chooses to hide behind a shield, not of normality, or 'courage' but of the worst type of knave. He poses. A smirk, a wink, and people think the worst of him. But I know. He does not deserve all of the names they call him. Some, yes, but no, not all.
I have often thought on why I feel no pain, is it a shield? Am I truly immune to the sensation? Or is it just a symptom of the madness that so many others see in me? I... perhaps I will never know.
Cast adrift in an uncaring world, and needing something indefinable. I need... A straightjacket, the boy says. Medication, our not so fearless leader says. And my crazy, guilty German? He just laughs, and says that I need to get laid. The ultimate hipocrisy, since he preaches a plan of action that he himself would never contemplate.
But until I find what I am searching for, I will wait with my sinner, and we will share the companionship of our insanity.
~oOo~
Do any of these little pieces make any sense to anyone? Kend