#kotoko just like john lowkey

[blitz0hno]

The universe has a habit for punishing hero types.

The pure indifference of time’s march forward is punishment enough for most human beings to steer clear of this path. Only one who is equally indifferent, it seems, can survive in such a world.

Maybe it’s the sheer arrogance of one who would try to shield others from the inevitable pains of this world that warrants such punishment. 

And yet, the existence of heroes brings its rewards. Hope, happiness, humanity, and all of those other lovely things that blossom in the presence of a “hero.” The moment something terribly wrong goes suddenly right. The right person, the right time, the right place.

A child running into a busy street, only to be grasped tightly at the last moment.

An old woman and her cat trapped in a house fire, a neighbor rushing into the flames and bringing them out in one piece.

A crowd in panic as an attacker brandishes a weapon, when a pistol responds from the hip of an everyday citizen and prevents innocent casualties (not that the gun nuts who fantasize about that shit are any better than violent people themselves).

I can’t honestly say these feats are short of impressive. Disgustingly aspirational, even, to seem so untouchable in a dire moment. In the back of many people’s minds, no matter how mediocre they truly are, there is an underlying want to “save” others in a grand act of heroism. The desire often begins and ends with the ego. 

The feelings that must come with saving a life, they think, consciously or not. Can anyone truly blame them, when headlines such as “NEIGHBORVILLE ‘SUPERMAN’ STOPS ARMED ROBBERY” fill their minds with praise? 

In actuality, though, if there was no armed robber, Superman would be obsolete out of the gate. And in the presence of an armed robber, most would turn and run, for opportunities for a hero are preceded by the presence of serious danger.

No one wants to be Superman the day after. The paperwork alone has gotta be awful. 

On top of that, between every one Neighborville Superman there are about fifty crooked cops, eighteen bigoted doctors, twenty creepy teachers, and eight Friendlytown Stabbers in any given news cycle.

Those who would drop their fantasy and run (“common” sense is common for a reason, they’ll tell you) save themselves a lot of suffering. Fighting one’s instincts is no easy task, after all.

But I, for one, hate those instincts of mine. They’re overridden, almost involuntarily, by something almost alarming.

A hatred.

I hate humans who cause suffering in others.

Many people are afraid of bullies, and saddened by tragic violence, but seem to reserve their anger for the little things. The incredible racism from their leaders doesn’t spark half the anger as their child dropping and breaking a cup, for example.

When I was a kid, anger reigned freely in my life. The adults around me had no issues with letting such an emotion control them; yet when they would beat me and my siblings, the words that came out of their mouths preached “respect” and “love,” things I grew to discover were much more work than any of them had ever put in.

I knew then that I wanted two things:

I wanted to be strong enough to defend those I love from cruelty.

I therefore wanted the people who inflict cruelty on this planet gone.

What resulted was something I jokingly call a disorganized attachment to love. I’m no sucker, after all; I can’t truly say I believe in the “power” of affection, as nice as it feels. The inevitable severance of that connection with another often gives me pause. I think about fights and breakups and deaths, and cowardly as it may seem I then wish to be completely at peace with myself before risking these losses.

But love is still something I feel. At least, I think it’s love; I feel great pain when I imagine the suffering those in my life will face, and feel great joy at the thought of their happiness.

Is it unreasonable, then, to strive for the capability to protect them?

There are many people who would hurt the ones I love. Am I wrong for wanting those people and the systems that create them eradicated?

I’m undoubtedly foolish to think that a perfect world could exist, or that any action I could take would change things for the better. Then again, if it’s so insignificant but makes the world better to me,  does it matter if I go ahead with it?

Because there are some who, objectively, cause unnecessary suffering on massive scales. Should them and their supporters not then be made examples of? Those who oppress and hurt others for selfish gain would be better off gone. If anyone’s life gets better after the oppressive party is gone, the point will prove itself. 

So why, then, should I expect another to act when I could be capable?

If it’s what I want to pursue, should I not give it my all?

Would anything I do even make a dent? Perhaps it would; then what? Another biased entry in a state-sponsored corporate textbook? Another murdered for challenging the status quo? 

I want a world where it is unacceptable to hurt another human for your own personal gain. I have a problem with those lacking compassion. I have a problem with those who judge and torture others for their differences, and those who hoard wealth while billions starve. 

It’s an intense, overwhelming anger that makes nothing else even seem to matter. We have such a short life on earth and we’re spending it under the thumbs of fuckers just as fragile as us.

Every “hero” is thrown out into a world where, in the time it takes many to save one single life, thousands can be taken. What a punishment indeed.  Carrying this knowledge at the forefront of their mind, they hold those they value most at arm’s length, never letting their guard down. Their sole focus is protection, ever-ready to run towards danger.

So goes the life of the untouchable hero.