[ No, no, no that's not right, it's not right at all. There should only be happy endings. No pain, no sadness. No one's ever sad, not when he's around. He brings joy and hope, that's what he's supposed to do. None of the darkness or the pain.
(But there are cracks.)
(He's gone too far. Didn't he?)
Joy upon joy — forgetting that life is both. Life is pain and joy, sadness and happiness, love and hate. Sometimes far more of one than the other, sometimes so much of one (darkness) that it might be hard to remember there was ever light anywhere at all.
(He knew this once, he thinks. Didn't he? He understood. He'd felt it, so much pain hidden beneath the cheerful way he moved through life.)
No, it's all — it's this, only this. ]
But why?
[ For a moment, perhaps, he sounds — well, petulant, yes, but...sad. So very sad. He shouldn't, though, it's not supposed to be there. No sadness, not for him. If he's sad, he can't help anyone at all, and that's his purpose.
His thoughts meander, nothing making sense, chaos in his head. Didn't he tell someone once that life was a pile of good things and bad things? Why can't he accept that now? ]
Sorry, I'm — [ He waves a hand idly in the air. ] I'm not myself, I don't think.
no subject
(But there are cracks.)
(He's gone too far. Didn't he?)
Joy upon joy — forgetting that life is both. Life is pain and joy, sadness and happiness, love and hate. Sometimes far more of one than the other, sometimes so much of one (darkness) that it might be hard to remember there was ever light anywhere at all.
(He knew this once, he thinks. Didn't he? He understood. He'd felt it, so much pain hidden beneath the cheerful way he moved through life.)
No, it's all — it's this, only this. ]
But why?
[ For a moment, perhaps, he sounds — well, petulant, yes, but...sad. So very sad. He shouldn't, though, it's not supposed to be there. No sadness, not for him. If he's sad, he can't help anyone at all, and that's his purpose.
His thoughts meander, nothing making sense, chaos in his head. Didn't he tell someone once that life was a pile of good things and bad things? Why can't he accept that now? ]
Sorry, I'm — [ He waves a hand idly in the air. ] I'm not myself, I don't think.