146: Hidden.
He hides behind custom, formality, dignity, grace. Intellect and purpose become his veils, surrounding him in shadow, hiding those which might prove obstructive to his goal: emotion, sympathy, empathy. These have been locked away, even from himself. They serve no purpose.
Or at least, they didn't.
Things are different now. What was once so right is now terribly wrong. What was once ordered and glorious is chaotic and ruined.
He is a man now, but it has been hidden for so long, he cannot be sure that this is not simply an illusion. Somewhere, he knows it is not. But he wishes it were. The thought of being a man - while something to be idolized before - is unsettling to him now, after so long without hopes, desires, dreams. Without an identity, or even a name. When all he had wasn an objective, a mission.
Yes, he thinks as he sits in this 拉屎洞 dive of a bar, it was better when I could pretend none of this existed.
The dim, practically ancient screen behind the bar glows with a parliamentary public service announcement. Automatically, he watches for subtle hints, listens for a hidden order. But there is nothing out of the ordinary, no secret instructions. Why would there be?
With a resigned sigh he tosses a few coins on the gouged wood that passes as a table top, and takes his leave. Wandering, he finds a relatively quiet section of town, and if he looks up, he can almost make out a few stars. Is this all I have now? he wonders. Is this all there is in the life heretofore unseen to me?
Or at least, they didn't.
Things are different now. What was once so right is now terribly wrong. What was once ordered and glorious is chaotic and ruined.
He is a man now, but it has been hidden for so long, he cannot be sure that this is not simply an illusion. Somewhere, he knows it is not. But he wishes it were. The thought of being a man - while something to be idolized before - is unsettling to him now, after so long without hopes, desires, dreams. Without an identity, or even a name. When all he had wasn an objective, a mission.
Yes, he thinks as he sits in this 拉屎洞 dive of a bar, it was better when I could pretend none of this existed.
The dim, practically ancient screen behind the bar glows with a parliamentary public service announcement. Automatically, he watches for subtle hints, listens for a hidden order. But there is nothing out of the ordinary, no secret instructions. Why would there be?
With a resigned sigh he tosses a few coins on the gouged wood that passes as a table top, and takes his leave. Wandering, he finds a relatively quiet section of town, and if he looks up, he can almost make out a few stars. Is this all I have now? he wonders. Is this all there is in the life heretofore unseen to me?