Time, Forgiveness and Mistery
Copying from a friend's note in Facebook : Yuga Adhiswandaru
Taken from the game: Braid.
I’m off on a search to rescue the princess. She's been snatched by a horrible and evil monster. This happened because I made a mistake. Not just one.
I made many mistakes during the time we spent together, all those years ago. Memories of our relationship has gone muddled, replaced wholesale, but one remains clear: the princess turning sharply away, her braid lashing at me with contempt.
I know she tried to be forgiving, but who can just shrug away a guilty lie, a stab in the back?
Such a mistake will change a relationship irreversibly, even if we have learned from the mistake and would never repeat it. Her eyes grew narrower, she became more distant.
Our world, with its rule of causality, has trained us to be miserly with forgiveness. By forgiving too readily, we can be badly hurt. But if we learn from a mistake and become better for it, shouldn’t we be rewarded for the learning, rather than punished for the mistake?
What if our world worked differently? Suppose we could tell her: “I didn’t mean what I just said,” or: “I didn’t mean that,” and she would say: “it’s OK, I understand,” and she wouldn’t turn away, and life would really proceed as though we never had said that thing? We could remove the damage but still be wiser for the experience.
Me & her lounge in the castle garden, laughing together, giving names to the colorful birds. Our mistakes are hidden from each other, tucked away between the folds of time, safe.
All those years ago, I had left the princess behind. Picked up my travel bag, and walked out the door. I regret this, to a degree. Now I’m journeying to find her again, to show that I know it was sad, but also to tell her how it was good. For a long time, I thought we had been cultivating the perfect relationship. I had been fiercely protective, reversing all my mistakes so they wouldn’t touch her. Likewise, keeping a tight rein on her own mistakes, she always pleased me.
But to be fully couched within the comfort of a friend is a mode of existence with severe implications. To please you perfectly, she must understand you perfectly. Thus you cannot defy her expectations or escape her reach. Her benevolence has circumscribed you, and your life’s achievements won’t reach beyond the map she has drawn. I needed to be non-manipulable, I needed a hope of transcendence. I needed, sometimes, to be immune to the princess’s caring touch. Off in the distance, I saw a castle where the flags flutter even when the wind has expired, and the bread in the kitchen is always warm. A little bit of magic.
i don't have any idea what to say. it just so deep for me. I'm not a pricess, either a savior. I'm just an audience.
Taken from the game: Braid.
I’m off on a search to rescue the princess. She's been snatched by a horrible and evil monster. This happened because I made a mistake. Not just one.
I made many mistakes during the time we spent together, all those years ago. Memories of our relationship has gone muddled, replaced wholesale, but one remains clear: the princess turning sharply away, her braid lashing at me with contempt.
I know she tried to be forgiving, but who can just shrug away a guilty lie, a stab in the back?
Such a mistake will change a relationship irreversibly, even if we have learned from the mistake and would never repeat it. Her eyes grew narrower, she became more distant.
Our world, with its rule of causality, has trained us to be miserly with forgiveness. By forgiving too readily, we can be badly hurt. But if we learn from a mistake and become better for it, shouldn’t we be rewarded for the learning, rather than punished for the mistake?
What if our world worked differently? Suppose we could tell her: “I didn’t mean what I just said,” or: “I didn’t mean that,” and she would say: “it’s OK, I understand,” and she wouldn’t turn away, and life would really proceed as though we never had said that thing? We could remove the damage but still be wiser for the experience.
Me & her lounge in the castle garden, laughing together, giving names to the colorful birds. Our mistakes are hidden from each other, tucked away between the folds of time, safe.
All those years ago, I had left the princess behind. Picked up my travel bag, and walked out the door. I regret this, to a degree. Now I’m journeying to find her again, to show that I know it was sad, but also to tell her how it was good. For a long time, I thought we had been cultivating the perfect relationship. I had been fiercely protective, reversing all my mistakes so they wouldn’t touch her. Likewise, keeping a tight rein on her own mistakes, she always pleased me.
But to be fully couched within the comfort of a friend is a mode of existence with severe implications. To please you perfectly, she must understand you perfectly. Thus you cannot defy her expectations or escape her reach. Her benevolence has circumscribed you, and your life’s achievements won’t reach beyond the map she has drawn. I needed to be non-manipulable, I needed a hope of transcendence. I needed, sometimes, to be immune to the princess’s caring touch. Off in the distance, I saw a castle where the flags flutter even when the wind has expired, and the bread in the kitchen is always warm. A little bit of magic.
i don't have any idea what to say. it just so deep for me. I'm not a pricess, either a savior. I'm just an audience.
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