(no subject)
I've sat and listened to everyone try and wrap their brains around the scale on which He now exists in (as, rather):-
The Raven King: "If God exists, then it is only because of Him." (from a man who apparently grew up with no God to speak of)
The vampires, who might as well be His fathers in law:
"He just proves that absolute power and absolute knowledge can be mutually exclusive."
"Oh, I don't know. I think He proves that you can still enjoy a bit of absolute stupidity even if you wield absolute knowledge."
(which is absolutely true, if you ask me)
Them:
"Arceus."
"But prettier."
(I don't know what an Arceus is, but 'prettier' is an understatement)
...and so on. I want to shake them all and tell them to stop. There's no comprehending it, but the closest you can ever get to that point is when you're outside of it. Impossible for them. We faced Him together, our selves dissembled and lain bare to his curious gaze, in an attempt to chain Him down again, but here he is, forgiving them nothing because there was nothing that He held against them in the first place. Us, I mean. He doesn't hold it against me either. But-
...I really wish he hadn't died. Back when you could think of him in lower case letters. I'm not mean enough to wish that He'd never returned, so I wish he had never died and stayed in lower case letters. Then He would have never brought Jacinta back, and they would know how it feels to have someone you counted on leave you when you needed them most. They would never understand what it means to be dragged naked down half an apartment building's worth of stairs, but there'd be that one pain. That's another story, though.
He doesn't hold it against me either but He's cast me aside nonetheless. Death was right, you know - He meddles. Coddles everyone else, pets their heads, and loves them unconditionally. He makes it so their lives are going to be better than they should be. Not perfectly, mind you, but better than they perhaps deserve. (Consider Miles, for instance) And what has He given me?
He's taken any chance of my being seen again. Gazes slide right off me because I am locked away from the world. People don't even bump into me. And I thought Jacinta did a good job of tearing me apart. Because I am here, outside, I can tell you that without His love and forgiveness (even if there is nothing to forgive - there is always something to forgive), nothing matters. You don't matter to anyone else, but nothing really matters to you either. That's the sort of scale He operates on. He smiles at you, and you are the most important dust mote in Creation for one fleeting moment. But if he does to you what He did to me, the no one will think of you, let alone care that the shoes you're wearing were what broke your credit card's back (the credit companies don't care though, which I guess is an up side), or that the stole around your shoulders is rabbit fur and the dress was a lucky find and your lipstick is coloured "Spice of Life" and that you are beautiful. I am nothing, even if I sit right here listening to them talk around me.
(I'm not. That's the point. He kissed me on the head, and bestowed this 'gift' upon me because He loved everyone else too much to raise a Hand against them and their hatred against me. So He hid me instead. Us, rather. Peter and me.)
There it is.
He tells everyone that He can't lie (for fear of altering the fabric of reality), but He does hold something against me. I have something, someone, that He wants. Why doesn't He just take it like He's taken what ever was left of my broken life? What keeps Him waiting? Am I vain enough to think that Peter stays with me because he doesn't love Him? No, but holding this over Him... well, it keeps me going.
The Raven King: "If God exists, then it is only because of Him." (from a man who apparently grew up with no God to speak of)
The vampires, who might as well be His fathers in law:
"He just proves that absolute power and absolute knowledge can be mutually exclusive."
"Oh, I don't know. I think He proves that you can still enjoy a bit of absolute stupidity even if you wield absolute knowledge."
(which is absolutely true, if you ask me)
Them:
"Arceus."
"But prettier."
(I don't know what an Arceus is, but 'prettier' is an understatement)
...and so on. I want to shake them all and tell them to stop. There's no comprehending it, but the closest you can ever get to that point is when you're outside of it. Impossible for them. We faced Him together, our selves dissembled and lain bare to his curious gaze, in an attempt to chain Him down again, but here he is, forgiving them nothing because there was nothing that He held against them in the first place. Us, I mean. He doesn't hold it against me either. But-
...I really wish he hadn't died. Back when you could think of him in lower case letters. I'm not mean enough to wish that He'd never returned, so I wish he had never died and stayed in lower case letters. Then He would have never brought Jacinta back, and they would know how it feels to have someone you counted on leave you when you needed them most. They would never understand what it means to be dragged naked down half an apartment building's worth of stairs, but there'd be that one pain. That's another story, though.
He doesn't hold it against me either but He's cast me aside nonetheless. Death was right, you know - He meddles. Coddles everyone else, pets their heads, and loves them unconditionally. He makes it so their lives are going to be better than they should be. Not perfectly, mind you, but better than they perhaps deserve. (Consider Miles, for instance) And what has He given me?
He's taken any chance of my being seen again. Gazes slide right off me because I am locked away from the world. People don't even bump into me. And I thought Jacinta did a good job of tearing me apart. Because I am here, outside, I can tell you that without His love and forgiveness (even if there is nothing to forgive - there is always something to forgive), nothing matters. You don't matter to anyone else, but nothing really matters to you either. That's the sort of scale He operates on. He smiles at you, and you are the most important dust mote in Creation for one fleeting moment. But if he does to you what He did to me, the no one will think of you, let alone care that the shoes you're wearing were what broke your credit card's back (the credit companies don't care though, which I guess is an up side), or that the stole around your shoulders is rabbit fur and the dress was a lucky find and your lipstick is coloured "Spice of Life" and that you are beautiful. I am nothing, even if I sit right here listening to them talk around me.
(I'm not. That's the point. He kissed me on the head, and bestowed this 'gift' upon me because He loved everyone else too much to raise a Hand against them and their hatred against me. So He hid me instead. Us, rather. Peter and me.)
There it is.
He tells everyone that He can't lie (for fear of altering the fabric of reality), but He does hold something against me. I have something, someone, that He wants. Why doesn't He just take it like He's taken what ever was left of my broken life? What keeps Him waiting? Am I vain enough to think that Peter stays with me because he doesn't love Him? No, but holding this over Him... well, it keeps me going.