It would be hard to summarize this I think. The most I can add to the small but fruitful conversation are simply collective anecdotes, which mostly consisted of spiraling down in self critique. Like, did you know I write fanfiction? It used to be "wrote" until recently when I picked up the Wings of Fire books and now I've added on a whole other world of things to help get both my emotional pains/frustrations out as well as seek affirmation to myself through shipping and what not.
This is relevant in HC3 because HC3 is at least partially about this sort of 'growing up' reflection, reconciliation, and reconstruction. It lashes out at everything it stands for and critically destroys and demakes its own ecosystem but it, at the end of the day, respects where its roots came from and how that transformed them to how they are today. Even despite the reactions of the cruel unforgiving world of Viewpoints that it then received. There is also so so so much more than that. A cascading rhythm of brutal acts of cleaning/detoxing the system by looking at what you've made like glass structures to throw rocks at. An immense cry for help to be heard by others but largely yourself. An attempt to reconcile with deep traumas that instead of being comforted by venting instead multiplied and become a duplicitous monster of a creation you regret. There is a plethora of interpretations that Childhood's End gives you and they are all frictional and ethereal and eternal.
But I kind of ruined some of that magic. Another part I find myself reflected here, doing the awful deed of continuing to graft myself onto these works is one of parasocial schisms within. There's a point in HC3 where there is a paranoid direct breakdown of feeling your move stalked and then duplicated to others. And unfortunately I imagine I'm one of those parasitic entities. I'm at a point now where my first step could hardly be a true one in most things anymore, there are multiple people I have watched from afar making myself like a kaleidoscope of parroting people. I've gotten better with it in that I no longer occupy those spaces to where I could be hurtful even indirectly and my mind is more clearer in my direction but the taint remains.
It feels wrong to sort of throw that sort of personal life off scenes (that do indeed super reflect that tho) but I find myself so personally changed on this journey that I find it difficult NOT to talk about it. It's funny because there's really not a year going by where I hate the "self" i was 1-2 years ago. It's like I don't stop 'growing' and I change almost to the point of instability when trying to consider what's 'me.' But I digress, the idea here is that HC1-3 as well as TWC were a turning point in terms of what I value in fiction, myself, and a big light on the path of where I go from here. I'm still going to write all of that fanfiction. Looking forward to being proud of it.
Where was I going with this again? I'm not sure. Let's hope there is something TO go to, the idea is after all to eventually move on from these selfs we might leave behind or grow discomforted with the thought of. I feel equivalently ready to move on as much as I do ashamed that I never quite gave the selfs enough "form" to move on from. I think from here though it's a new day and I'll press on, and worry less about the pasts of myself and more what I can do. It's time to put an end to this cyclical self destruction in some fashion, and I mean that in as little an ominous sense as I can possible.
This is relevant in HC3 because HC3 is at least partially about this sort of 'growing up' reflection, reconciliation, and reconstruction. It lashes out at everything it stands for and critically destroys and demakes its own ecosystem but it, at the end of the day, respects where its roots came from and how that transformed them to how they are today. Even despite the reactions of the cruel unforgiving world of Viewpoints that it then received. There is also so so so much more than that. A cascading rhythm of brutal acts of cleaning/detoxing the system by looking at what you've made like glass structures to throw rocks at. An immense cry for help to be heard by others but largely yourself. An attempt to reconcile with deep traumas that instead of being comforted by venting instead multiplied and become a duplicitous monster of a creation you regret. There is a plethora of interpretations that Childhood's End gives you and they are all frictional and ethereal and eternal.
But I kind of ruined some of that magic. Another part I find myself reflected here, doing the awful deed of continuing to graft myself onto these works is one of parasocial schisms within. There's a point in HC3 where there is a paranoid direct breakdown of feeling your move stalked and then duplicated to others. And unfortunately I imagine I'm one of those parasitic entities. I'm at a point now where my first step could hardly be a true one in most things anymore, there are multiple people I have watched from afar making myself like a kaleidoscope of parroting people. I've gotten better with it in that I no longer occupy those spaces to where I could be hurtful even indirectly and my mind is more clearer in my direction but the taint remains.
It feels wrong to sort of throw that sort of personal life off scenes (that do indeed super reflect that tho) but I find myself so personally changed on this journey that I find it difficult NOT to talk about it. It's funny because there's really not a year going by where I hate the "self" i was 1-2 years ago. It's like I don't stop 'growing' and I change almost to the point of instability when trying to consider what's 'me.' But I digress, the idea here is that HC1-3 as well as TWC were a turning point in terms of what I value in fiction, myself, and a big light on the path of where I go from here. I'm still going to write all of that fanfiction. Looking forward to being proud of it.
Where was I going with this again? I'm not sure. Let's hope there is something TO go to, the idea is after all to eventually move on from these selfs we might leave behind or grow discomforted with the thought of. I feel equivalently ready to move on as much as I do ashamed that I never quite gave the selfs enough "form" to move on from. I think from here though it's a new day and I'll press on, and worry less about the pasts of myself and more what I can do. It's time to put an end to this cyclical self destruction in some fashion, and I mean that in as little an ominous sense as I can possible.