theatrical_muse #183: Tell me a secret
"It is getting harder now to remember all the places I have been and all the people I have hurt (they will not speak to me again). I have been counting them out on fingers and toes since your mentor died and decomposed. You did not expect him to pass that way, and his stench almost destroyed your faith.
Now I am holed up in a basement in the South, writing notes to the whole world from the underground. Why would I be born just to die young? Could it be that some little demon has me all high-strung? I am not going to string myself up, and I am not giving up belief because existence should not be a reason to grieve. But what if it is? Then grieve with me and move on.
You have to believe I would love to tell you what is going to become of me. You have to believe I would love to tell you what is going to become of me. But there is just no way to know. There is just no way to know. So don't lose hope. Don't lose hope because existence should not be a reason to grieve. But what if it is? Then, grieve with me, and we are all going to move on."
--Raise Up Roof Beams, "Letter to Alyosha"
He doesn’t think it’s right. Most people don’t think like he does. Most people would think it’s wonderful, and most people would fight for their right to do so. But he cannot help but think that it’s all so wrong, for him.
He’s near-suicidal, in the way he acts, though he’d never say, and perhaps he doesn’t even realize. He’s got to be a little more careful than he used to be, because of Rose, but it’s only slightly more, and he doesn’t notice. Of course he knows he’s dangerous, just like everything he does, everywhere he goes. Rose was warned of that a few times, and still she came.
He’d give up everything to protect her. She’s his responsibility. He’d give it all to save any life. (He’s done it before. Rose wanted her father, and by god, the Doctor was not going to take that away from her, even if it meant the end of him, even if it meant the end of the world-Pete was a smart man, he figured out what to do in the end, just like he knew he would.) He doesn’t like to think that he’s responsible for all the lives he comes across, but he’s acutely aware of what happens to a good number of those people. Those stories about him didn’t come from nowhere, afterall.
He doesn’t realize that sometimes there’s another way, because oftentimes those ways involve other people dying. He would’ve gladly taken Gwyneth’s place under the arch, he wanted to, because she was a sweet girl with a gift, and he had to fix things. But she wasn’t going to budge (she wouldn’t let it, and neither would the Gelth), and he had to suffer Rose’s incredulous, guilt-inducing stare.
He hates feeling helpless, so he tries to make sure that he never is. He’s in the middle of the action, even starting it, half the time, just because he can, and it’s better than being a coward. At least he can regenerate. It doesn’t matter quite so much, then.
It’s not as if Rose has noticed, either, or if she has, she keeps her mouth sealed tightly about it. She probably figures this is the way he’s always been in his 900 years of existence. It if were pointed out to him, he’d laugh and flatly deny it. Self-sacrificial, yes, but only when he needs to be.
Except it’s not. It’s all the time. It’s when heroics aren’t yet called for, and it’s when he’s tired, and it’s when there’s trouble, and it’s when he can.
Life is something the Doctor doesn’t think is proper for him. But he lives it. What he doesn’t realize is that instinct that switches on just under the surface everywhere he goes. That he hopes the next danger could be the one that kills him, that brings him closer to that redemption he thinks he can’t find. It’s not suicide if there’s a purpose to it. It’s his own little secret from himself.
Now I am holed up in a basement in the South, writing notes to the whole world from the underground. Why would I be born just to die young? Could it be that some little demon has me all high-strung? I am not going to string myself up, and I am not giving up belief because existence should not be a reason to grieve. But what if it is? Then grieve with me and move on.
You have to believe I would love to tell you what is going to become of me. You have to believe I would love to tell you what is going to become of me. But there is just no way to know. There is just no way to know. So don't lose hope. Don't lose hope because existence should not be a reason to grieve. But what if it is? Then, grieve with me, and we are all going to move on."
--Raise Up Roof Beams, "Letter to Alyosha"
He doesn’t think it’s right. Most people don’t think like he does. Most people would think it’s wonderful, and most people would fight for their right to do so. But he cannot help but think that it’s all so wrong, for him.
He’s near-suicidal, in the way he acts, though he’d never say, and perhaps he doesn’t even realize. He’s got to be a little more careful than he used to be, because of Rose, but it’s only slightly more, and he doesn’t notice. Of course he knows he’s dangerous, just like everything he does, everywhere he goes. Rose was warned of that a few times, and still she came.
He’d give up everything to protect her. She’s his responsibility. He’d give it all to save any life. (He’s done it before. Rose wanted her father, and by god, the Doctor was not going to take that away from her, even if it meant the end of him, even if it meant the end of the world-Pete was a smart man, he figured out what to do in the end, just like he knew he would.) He doesn’t like to think that he’s responsible for all the lives he comes across, but he’s acutely aware of what happens to a good number of those people. Those stories about him didn’t come from nowhere, afterall.
He doesn’t realize that sometimes there’s another way, because oftentimes those ways involve other people dying. He would’ve gladly taken Gwyneth’s place under the arch, he wanted to, because she was a sweet girl with a gift, and he had to fix things. But she wasn’t going to budge (she wouldn’t let it, and neither would the Gelth), and he had to suffer Rose’s incredulous, guilt-inducing stare.
He hates feeling helpless, so he tries to make sure that he never is. He’s in the middle of the action, even starting it, half the time, just because he can, and it’s better than being a coward. At least he can regenerate. It doesn’t matter quite so much, then.
It’s not as if Rose has noticed, either, or if she has, she keeps her mouth sealed tightly about it. She probably figures this is the way he’s always been in his 900 years of existence. It if were pointed out to him, he’d laugh and flatly deny it. Self-sacrificial, yes, but only when he needs to be.
Except it’s not. It’s all the time. It’s when heroics aren’t yet called for, and it’s when he’s tired, and it’s when there’s trouble, and it’s when he can.
Life is something the Doctor doesn’t think is proper for him. But he lives it. What he doesn’t realize is that instinct that switches on just under the surface everywhere he goes. That he hopes the next danger could be the one that kills him, that brings him closer to that redemption he thinks he can’t find. It’s not suicide if there’s a purpose to it. It’s his own little secret from himself.