Edwin Seabeck is a killer in potentia (elusive_control) wrote in invol_rpg, @ 2013-04-17 14:29:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! email, edwin seabeck |
TO: 'Dr. Beatles Tube-Station' [doctor.meh@gmail.com], 'Dr. Princess Crimefighter' [sparklequark@gmail.com]
FROM: 'Ed Seabeck' [es.sex@gmail.com]
CC: 'Edwin Seabeck' [eseabeck@ivi.edu.au]
SUBJECT: Trauma du jour
Max & Shar,
I've changed my mind. I'm switching my major to spaceship navigation. I want off this bloody planet.
I don't know what, if anything, is going to be making it onto the news; they've obviously not issued a media blackout like they have in Russia, but I'm not even sure this email will get out to you without comically large black blocks redacting anything 'sensitive' I've said.
What started out as a peaceful protest got terribly out of hand. I honestly couldn't tell you how it began save that it involved a camera and person of quite ethical conscience, but who threw the first punch will be a mystery until they start hauling everyone in for questioning (we have two Veritaserum-esque people here; I don't know either of them well enough to know if they'd go along with it). I managed to find my way out of the fray for reasons that I think should be extremely obvious, but I'll tell you, it's been a very long time since I've been that angry. Nearly black-out so; I had just enough composure to remove myself and breathe until it cleared.
I can parse out the reasons for human reactions. Too much fear on both sides, not enough sense. Bubbles of tension so distended all it takes is a ghost of a motion to explode them. An interminable sentence, a separation from events, a tableau played out before us where the world continues to collapse into chaos and all we can do is watch, helplessly, as fates change. And I'd really prefer NOT to hear about uncertainty in physics in response to that. It's not the same. I may be a criminal and some forfeiture is necessarily applied, but that doesn't explain the treatment of the rest of the population.
It's a temporary feeling, I know, to be so disgusted with humanity in general. But right now misanthropy is looking like a perfectly reasonable life choice.
The person I probably feel the worst for is my poor Roommate, who helped put this protest together in the name of peace. He tries so hard and now he’s rowing with people over the fact that he doesn’t condone any of the violence while most condone the violence perpetrated by their friends. At least he didn't end up in solitary confinement (unlike some 30 or so students who did); they'd have a difficult time keeping him altogether confined, but in principle, he'd be the last person who'd deserve it.
The only person I'm particularly worried about is The American, who IS in solitary (the only one – none of my 'Harem', as you like to call them, attended) and has had some bad experiences with it in the past (The Asylum Nightmare, for one. Gracious - the more I write that, the more I DO sound like I was in a Doctor Who episode). This isn’t his first trip, so I hope that doesn’t preclude him from some visitation. Fortunately/unfortunately, I think I’m the only person of any closeness that is in a position to do so.
I’m trying to keep out of things, but it’s increasingly difficult. For all my complaints of feeling disconnected not so long ago (long story, Shar), I’m sitting here wishing for a sense of detachment from these activities and these people. It just goes to show that for all my careful analysis, I don’t know what the hell I want. Except, I don’t want to be detached from you two. I wish both of you could come and prove that this segregation, both induced and desired (by some), isn’t a foregone conclusion. I dread endings. I dread the thought that even at my most optimistic, I return back to St. Andrews and there are too many forces, internal and external pressures, to keep our connections afloat. I think of you both often. I wish things were easier. I wish I was less sure of my presumptions of the future. God, this is maudlin.
We’re cut back down to 3 hours of internet a day, so if you respond, I won’t get around to it until tomorrow night. Hope you’re both miserable – I need the company.
-- Ed