In defence of the rose-coloured spectacles.
I'm not an idiot, you realize.
I'm perfectly aware of the somewhat pitying looks Optimus and Rattrap shoot me when they think I don't see them. And I know that even the peaceable Rhinox sometimes shakes his head at my naivete. I'm the liability - the one who refuses to fight a woman, even when said woman has a gun pointed at my head. I'm the one who won't attack when an enemy is weak. I'm the one whose out-dated moral code has no place in modern warfare. Whose tendency to place heart over head will doubtless lead to my untimely end.
I know all this. I see the logic behind their way of thinking. I understand.
And I remain as I am anyway.
Know this - my view of the world is not that of one who does not see the evil that lies around him, but rather of one who sees it and is making a determined effort to ignore it. There is a vast, and widely unacknowledged, difference between "naivete" and "innocence" - that difference being that naivete will destroy either body or soul, and innocence may preserve it. Cynicism and realism are the blinding philosophies, not idealism. A child may suggest the perfect solution to a moral problem, whereas an adult will become so lost in the fog of varying shades of grey that the answer eludes him entirely. I like to keep an open mind.
I'm not a threatening Transformer. I'm not enormous like Optimus, or menacing like Megatron. I don't have Rhinox's brains, Cheetor's speed or Rattrap's skill. The main word that comes to mind with me is "odd." Or possibly less savoury words. I have a dog face and bird feet. And tailfeathers. Hardly an attire to strike fear into the hearts of your enemies. Still, I am as I am, and I've no grounds to complain. But can you IMAGINE how ridiculous I would look if I adopted Rattrap's outlook? Or Dinobot's? Like a robin trying to be a hawk...though perhaps that's probably not the best reference to use, given my beast mode.
Ahem.
If I TRIED, I'm sure I'd find that I have issues. I don't know who I was and my persona is entirely based on my bestial nature. I did, however briefly, work for the Predacons. I'm courting a black widow spider, which does not make for an easy love-life. But why should I care? I'm happy. I'm in love. No matter how hard life is, I still have more than enough compensation to continue my existence cheerily.
The only darkness in my life concerns its greatest joy...I have no fear for myself physically, but...What if, upon returning to Cybertron, I find that I HAVE a mate? That someone is awaiting my return, never realising that the person they wait for is as good as dead, that I have no memory of someone that I once loved? That their place in my heart is occupied by another? Or worse - what if the love of my life, my Blackarachnia, what if SHE has a lover? I may be named Lancelot due to my code of chivalry, but my resemblance to that particular knight ends there. I have no desire for any more romantic deception - I've had my fill of that already.
I try not to think about it. I shake my head and accuse myself of self- flattery, of paranoia. Still the fears will not leave, so I ignore them. I live for the day not in the reckless, violent way of youth, but in the manner of loving what I have because tomorrow it might be gone. I might be gone.
It's the reason no-one knows quite where to place my age. Optimus supposes somewhere between twenty-five and thirty. Rhinox thinks that my calm disposition may suggest greater age - Rattrap thinks my "fuzzy headedness" makes me younger. I don't care. The rose coloured spectacles have their uses. They keep me sane, and all the shadows appear merely darker shades of pink, while the light glows all the warmer. I hope - I pray - that I can always be this way.
You must excuse me. Blackarachnia is calling me in that tone of voice that suggests she is NOT in the mood to be ignored. Farewell.
I'm not an idiot, you realize.
I'm perfectly aware of the somewhat pitying looks Optimus and Rattrap shoot me when they think I don't see them. And I know that even the peaceable Rhinox sometimes shakes his head at my naivete. I'm the liability - the one who refuses to fight a woman, even when said woman has a gun pointed at my head. I'm the one who won't attack when an enemy is weak. I'm the one whose out-dated moral code has no place in modern warfare. Whose tendency to place heart over head will doubtless lead to my untimely end.
I know all this. I see the logic behind their way of thinking. I understand.
And I remain as I am anyway.
Know this - my view of the world is not that of one who does not see the evil that lies around him, but rather of one who sees it and is making a determined effort to ignore it. There is a vast, and widely unacknowledged, difference between "naivete" and "innocence" - that difference being that naivete will destroy either body or soul, and innocence may preserve it. Cynicism and realism are the blinding philosophies, not idealism. A child may suggest the perfect solution to a moral problem, whereas an adult will become so lost in the fog of varying shades of grey that the answer eludes him entirely. I like to keep an open mind.
I'm not a threatening Transformer. I'm not enormous like Optimus, or menacing like Megatron. I don't have Rhinox's brains, Cheetor's speed or Rattrap's skill. The main word that comes to mind with me is "odd." Or possibly less savoury words. I have a dog face and bird feet. And tailfeathers. Hardly an attire to strike fear into the hearts of your enemies. Still, I am as I am, and I've no grounds to complain. But can you IMAGINE how ridiculous I would look if I adopted Rattrap's outlook? Or Dinobot's? Like a robin trying to be a hawk...though perhaps that's probably not the best reference to use, given my beast mode.
Ahem.
If I TRIED, I'm sure I'd find that I have issues. I don't know who I was and my persona is entirely based on my bestial nature. I did, however briefly, work for the Predacons. I'm courting a black widow spider, which does not make for an easy love-life. But why should I care? I'm happy. I'm in love. No matter how hard life is, I still have more than enough compensation to continue my existence cheerily.
The only darkness in my life concerns its greatest joy...I have no fear for myself physically, but...What if, upon returning to Cybertron, I find that I HAVE a mate? That someone is awaiting my return, never realising that the person they wait for is as good as dead, that I have no memory of someone that I once loved? That their place in my heart is occupied by another? Or worse - what if the love of my life, my Blackarachnia, what if SHE has a lover? I may be named Lancelot due to my code of chivalry, but my resemblance to that particular knight ends there. I have no desire for any more romantic deception - I've had my fill of that already.
I try not to think about it. I shake my head and accuse myself of self- flattery, of paranoia. Still the fears will not leave, so I ignore them. I live for the day not in the reckless, violent way of youth, but in the manner of loving what I have because tomorrow it might be gone. I might be gone.
It's the reason no-one knows quite where to place my age. Optimus supposes somewhere between twenty-five and thirty. Rhinox thinks that my calm disposition may suggest greater age - Rattrap thinks my "fuzzy headedness" makes me younger. I don't care. The rose coloured spectacles have their uses. They keep me sane, and all the shadows appear merely darker shades of pink, while the light glows all the warmer. I hope - I pray - that I can always be this way.
You must excuse me. Blackarachnia is calling me in that tone of voice that suggests she is NOT in the mood to be ignored. Farewell.