explosivecombat | NIETZSCHE; DEAD PHILOSOPHERS' INBOX

With a view like that, I can't say I blame you.

Speaking of going places, I saw the news the other day. Can I assume I'm off sequester now?

Everything should be fine from here, yes.

I assume you'll be pleased about that much, at least.

I'm ecstatic. Do you want to know how many fish I caught today?

Go on. I'm actually curious now.

Four Tentacool and a Carvanha. Also someone's misplaced boot, but given that that's not a fish, it doesn't count for the purposes of the question.

You know, I can never decide if the idea of fishing is somewhat fascinating or entirely too disgusting to fathom; the latter has been winning out impressively over the former thus far.

I have been enjoying being able to see the ocean in general, however.

Are you still in Fuchsia?

No.

I generally don't stay in the cities I attack for very long; unless I'm required to stay somewhere, I usually leave as soon as my work is finished.

With weather like this, I could be going through tomorrow, if I wanted.

And then I'm off again, and my whereabouts will be a mystery even to you once more.

That's nice; you aren't getting mine, either, so we're even on that front.

Well, isn't this a role reversal.

But no, that wasn't the suggestion of a game this time. Just fond musing on what a pleasure it was to have you know where I was for awhile.

You're the only one who makes it so I don't, and you don't stop pointing it out after the fact.

So don't give me this "it was a pleasure to have you know" business.

Were there any other ways you wanted to stamp out my attempts at a good mood while you were at it, then?

Does it really not occur to you how legitimately grating it is when you do that?

[ ... :|a ]

Oh. Wait, hold on.

[...]

All right, I think...I see what it is.

Go on.

I made a passing remark without putting too much thought into the implications, received an answer that made me feel like I was being brushed off, compensated for it by pretending the brush-off didn't bother me, ended up called on that, tried again to recover, and ended up producing a whole chain of discourse that happens frequently enough to irritate you when it comes up. I think it's because I'm coming off defensive and dodgy instead of being straightforward, and that bothers you...?

I was aiming for some outcome, missed, and in trying to correct for it, made things worse instead. I think.

Not even close.

Contact me again once you've worked it out, not before.

I hate this, you know. This...whole cycle, we've done it so many times now and I hate it; I feel like Sisyphus, making so much headway at getting my boulder up the mountain and then every time it slips and I'm back where I started, never wiser, never...

You wanted an answer, not my self-pity. I'm sorry, Teacher; all I can give you is my best this time.

We can't keep doing this to each other. You tell me to work these things out for myself and then put me through my paces wanting to see if I can arrive at the right answer; maybe that does help me learn but it pushes me away, too. You're holding my fate over my head like I've mistakenly landed myself in a minefield and if I make one wrong step in getting out of it, it all blows up in my face. I'm not arguing that I'm not wrong; I'm sure I am, regardless of whether or not I can give you the answer you're looking for, because it's wrong that we're in this standoff in the first place and I know that's my fault. But it's wrong that this is my punishment for it. I don't want to keep ending up like this, and it's not as easy as just saying, "Then stop putting yourself there, Locke". You're half of this, too. It goes both ways.

No one's going to die if you're wrong, too, Nietzsche. I know that's not what you want to hear but please, something about this has to change. Please, there has to be a better way than to keep doing this to ourselves, because sooner or later one or both of us aren't going to be able to take it anymore.

Please.

This isn't the answer you wanted, but this is what I've worked out in the time you've given me. Please. I'm sorry. I can't write you an essay and tell you why I was wrong and promise it'll never happen again, and wait with bated breath hoping for a passing mark that will get us past this one more time.

Bitte. Es tut mir leid. Dies einmal, kann das genug sein?

I'm not refusing to accept your apology, and I'm not avoiding answering anything you've said. But for the sake of my own personal understanding, tell me - you said you were trying to get a reaction out of that remark earlier. What did you think was going to happen?

Honestly, as I see it, things went something like this.

You made a remark in passing about your work. I had been asking about Fuchsia because I know I'll be going through there soon, and lately I've generally tried to keep track of when and where our paths are going to cross — thanks to that encounter in Goldenrod a month or so back, when I assumed you'd be somewhere you wouldn't, and was wrong.

We have a longstanding track record of things going badly when we dwell too long on the topic of your work, so I changed it — rather inelegantly, I'll concede. I don't know why I picked that topic in particular; maybe it's because thoughts of your work reminded me of mine, or maybe it's because we were talking about my penchant for adventure earlier. I didn't put that much thought into it. I just wanted to talk about something else, without explicitly jarring the flow of the conversation by saying that outright.

"That's nice; you aren't getting mine either" came off sarcastic, which I think you intended, and accusatory, which you might not have. I picked a bad method of trying to get out of it that time; I'll take the complete blame for that. The best I can offer is that it's a deep-seated habit, and one that I don't always think about, and one that I haven't yet been able to break for you.

Maybe that was the point when you tried to point out that I'm doing it again; looking back on it, I think it might've been. In the moment, saying something like "don't give me that" on the heels of something that had already seemed sarcastic and accusatory put me further on the defensive, to the point where I wasn't thinking about the conversation, just about not having you coming after me like that anymore.

I reacted badly again, and this time pushed back with sarcasm and accusation of my own. That's when this started, my...trying to figure out what had gone wrong. And I think in trying to explain it, I made it even worse besides, which is frustrating in itself, but also not particularly your fault.

Hoping for an outcome isn't the same thing as trying to provoke a reaction. I just wanted to talk about something else. I was hoping you'd laugh or...I don't know. Ask where I was going. Tease me about how often I call. Something other than suggesting I meant something underhanded by it.

So that's what I thought would happen, from the beginning. I wanted to change the subject; then I wanted to get out from under your scrutiny; then I just got defensive without any particular design. That's what happened; I wasn't thinking much at all.

Don't expect me to ask where you're going, in future. You've made it hideously plain that you aren't going to tell me without making me practically beg you for any information at all, and even then you hardly give me anything.

That's what I'm angry about. So yes, if you insist on continuing with this whole "You don't know where I am" game, I'm going to be sarcastic and accusatory because I'm not going to play it with you.

All right. I understand.

You asked me once, when you were playing hard to get, whether I always just walk away from doors when someone closes them on me. I suspect that's what you're doing with that particular behavior as well - closing the door to see if I'll try to open it again, or at least to...I don't know, prove to yourself that I'll make the attempt. But I don't take closed doors as a challenge, nor do I take them as an invitation to try to open them again.

When people close doors on others, that's a sign that whomever they're closing those doors on aren't wanted.

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