Emptiness
In my period of hibernation, in my escape from the world, I've been spending an awful lot of time playing NWN2 and the expansion: Mask of the Betrayer. I don't want to give things away for folks who have not yet played it, but two of the most important, and potent, themes in the MoTB game are masks (go figure), emptiness, and loss.
In the Forgotten Realms setting, gods will sometimes die or get killed, and have another fill in their role. In recent history, there have been three different gods of the dead. Thing is, regardless of the face that Death may wear, regardless of his name, regardless of how that specific god carries out their duties, death, dying and the dead all remain unchanged. The god, and their name, are just masks on the unchanging face of Death.
In the lands where the game takes place, it is ruled by a group of witches called the Wychlaren, all of whom wear masks. To them, the masks are symbols, an attempt to leave behind their former selves, the one behind the mask, and to try to become true Wychlaren, to become the mask itself.
In the game, there is also an emptiness, a void so barren and deep, all remains of what it once was is hunger: a hunger that always seeks to feed, that always tries to fill the emptiness, yet it can never be filled, and it has always ended up consuming the one who was cursed by it.
As of late, these things resonate with me rather strongly.
I am Klytus. In my heart, at the core of my being, I am who I am. Regardless of all other things, regardless of the masks I wear: what I do, who I know, who I love, how I behave... I am still Klytus. I cannot escape that, and I cannot change that. Even if I make changes to who Klytus is, it will still be Klytus. Frequently, being Klytus is a rather painful thing, so one can understand the impetus to dodge the pain. But that only works for so long, and it only goes so far.
Why is there so much pain? Many reasons, but the most prominent one is, and always has been, emptiness. Things inside of me that were of dire importance, only I had no idea of just how important they were until I had lost them. Most recently, the loss that has touched me the most deeply is... my cat, Trouble. Yes, the divorce hurts, too. However, I've had many pets over my life, but Trouble was the first animal I ever adopted that was well and truly my pet. I had him since he was a kitten just old enough to be away from his mother. When I sat down at my computer, he would come lay on the desk. When I went to bed, he would sleep against my leg. He was my cat. And yet, in the middle of all the mess with my disintegrating marriage, I carelessly told my ex that she could keep Trouble. In the end, she refused to give him back. It is only now, after I've lost him, now that I can never get him back, that I fully understand what it is I've lost.
Why does it take the emptiness caused by suddenly not having a thing anymore to make you realize how important it was?
I've lost count of how many times this has happened to me. At some point, you'd think I'd learn. At some point, one would think I would know truly how precious a thing, a person, a feeling, is in the here-and-now. One would think. Yet the lessons remain unlearned, the same mistakes are made, and the emptiness grows.
The first and strongest impetus of emptiness is to fill it. Trouble is, voids are very particular. If, for example, you have an emptiness from not having had a father when growing up, no other experience, no other relationship, can ever replace that. If you had a cold and distant mother, no other love will ever replace that. If you are empty from feeling unloved as a child, it doesn't matter how many people love you today, that love can never fill that void. Need all you want, feed all you want, it won't make any difference. You will still be empty inside and you will always need more.
Such emptiness, such pain, such wounds, cannot be filled - they must be healed. Only doing so requires facing the pain, dealing with the pain, feeling the pain. But pain hurts, and no one wants to hurt, so its a difficult thing to do. I find myself wondering if that is what drives masochism. Are these people in so much pain, that turning pain into pleasure is their only relief?
Rather than face the pain, I tried to hide from it. Ironically, the escape I chose was a game rife with the very issues I was trying to avoid.
I am Klytus. Klytus is empty. Emptiness hurts. If I put a mask on, the emptiness remains and continues to hurt. I cannot fill the emptiness. I cannot escape the emptiness.
There is but one solution...
... I must heal.
In the Forgotten Realms setting, gods will sometimes die or get killed, and have another fill in their role. In recent history, there have been three different gods of the dead. Thing is, regardless of the face that Death may wear, regardless of his name, regardless of how that specific god carries out their duties, death, dying and the dead all remain unchanged. The god, and their name, are just masks on the unchanging face of Death.
In the lands where the game takes place, it is ruled by a group of witches called the Wychlaren, all of whom wear masks. To them, the masks are symbols, an attempt to leave behind their former selves, the one behind the mask, and to try to become true Wychlaren, to become the mask itself.
In the game, there is also an emptiness, a void so barren and deep, all remains of what it once was is hunger: a hunger that always seeks to feed, that always tries to fill the emptiness, yet it can never be filled, and it has always ended up consuming the one who was cursed by it.
As of late, these things resonate with me rather strongly.
I am Klytus. In my heart, at the core of my being, I am who I am. Regardless of all other things, regardless of the masks I wear: what I do, who I know, who I love, how I behave... I am still Klytus. I cannot escape that, and I cannot change that. Even if I make changes to who Klytus is, it will still be Klytus. Frequently, being Klytus is a rather painful thing, so one can understand the impetus to dodge the pain. But that only works for so long, and it only goes so far.
Why is there so much pain? Many reasons, but the most prominent one is, and always has been, emptiness. Things inside of me that were of dire importance, only I had no idea of just how important they were until I had lost them. Most recently, the loss that has touched me the most deeply is... my cat, Trouble. Yes, the divorce hurts, too. However, I've had many pets over my life, but Trouble was the first animal I ever adopted that was well and truly my pet. I had him since he was a kitten just old enough to be away from his mother. When I sat down at my computer, he would come lay on the desk. When I went to bed, he would sleep against my leg. He was my cat. And yet, in the middle of all the mess with my disintegrating marriage, I carelessly told my ex that she could keep Trouble. In the end, she refused to give him back. It is only now, after I've lost him, now that I can never get him back, that I fully understand what it is I've lost.
Why does it take the emptiness caused by suddenly not having a thing anymore to make you realize how important it was?
I've lost count of how many times this has happened to me. At some point, you'd think I'd learn. At some point, one would think I would know truly how precious a thing, a person, a feeling, is in the here-and-now. One would think. Yet the lessons remain unlearned, the same mistakes are made, and the emptiness grows.
The first and strongest impetus of emptiness is to fill it. Trouble is, voids are very particular. If, for example, you have an emptiness from not having had a father when growing up, no other experience, no other relationship, can ever replace that. If you had a cold and distant mother, no other love will ever replace that. If you are empty from feeling unloved as a child, it doesn't matter how many people love you today, that love can never fill that void. Need all you want, feed all you want, it won't make any difference. You will still be empty inside and you will always need more.
Such emptiness, such pain, such wounds, cannot be filled - they must be healed. Only doing so requires facing the pain, dealing with the pain, feeling the pain. But pain hurts, and no one wants to hurt, so its a difficult thing to do. I find myself wondering if that is what drives masochism. Are these people in so much pain, that turning pain into pleasure is their only relief?
Rather than face the pain, I tried to hide from it. Ironically, the escape I chose was a game rife with the very issues I was trying to avoid.
I am Klytus. Klytus is empty. Emptiness hurts. If I put a mask on, the emptiness remains and continues to hurt. I cannot fill the emptiness. I cannot escape the emptiness.
There is but one solution...
... I must heal.