(no subject)
I find myself fascinated by the objects in this world. The technology. So many things that I have never seen before, and that others so glibly accept. Truth be told, it makes me feel young and uninexperienced.
I am not sure why such things fascinate me as they do. I've always been a bit of a scholar, though not much of one. Fighting always came first. Now, since there is nothing to fight, I find myself leaning toward the other side. I want to know more about these things, and to a certain extent, how they work. Though I think learning of how they do work would steal some of the fascination. I find myself wanting to learn as much as possible. Yet much of what I learn saddens me. These sleek things that captivate my attention are many times destorying the world around them.
It is difficult, living in a place so different.
I recently watched the visual representation of the end of the Third Age. A movie called Return of the King, I'm told. Fist the Silmarils and then the Rings...was our world ever free of such things of power?
The grey rain curtain of this world rolls back and all turns to silver glass, then you see it; White shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise.
That piece, that scene...It affected me more than it should have. I found myself deep in sorrow, just because of those words. So much pain that I want to let go.
Curufinwe has, apparently, appeared. I want to speak with him, and I do not want to at the same moment.
I am not sure why such things fascinate me as they do. I've always been a bit of a scholar, though not much of one. Fighting always came first. Now, since there is nothing to fight, I find myself leaning toward the other side. I want to know more about these things, and to a certain extent, how they work. Though I think learning of how they do work would steal some of the fascination. I find myself wanting to learn as much as possible. Yet much of what I learn saddens me. These sleek things that captivate my attention are many times destorying the world around them.
It is difficult, living in a place so different.
I recently watched the visual representation of the end of the Third Age. A movie called Return of the King, I'm told. Fist the Silmarils and then the Rings...was our world ever free of such things of power?
The grey rain curtain of this world rolls back and all turns to silver glass, then you see it; White shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise.
That piece, that scene...It affected me more than it should have. I found myself deep in sorrow, just because of those words. So much pain that I want to let go.
Curufinwe has, apparently, appeared. I want to speak with him, and I do not want to at the same moment.