|
My Profile
Fairytales for a Practical Princess - 2008-11-30
|
10:19 a.m. - 2004-05-18
Well, it’s official. I’m the Biggest Wuss in the World. I can’t kill a Sim. I tried! Twice! They were particularly awful Sims too. Characters who never shaped up and were dead weight in the neighborhood. Nasty Sims who can’t keep friends. And still I couldn’t kill them. I tried. Locked them each in a room and took away everything. Furniture and windows even. But those darn Sims would shout and cry and wet themselves and I just couldn’t do it. They’d go red line almost all the way and I’d give in. It was just too gruesome. I get upset when a houseplant dies. I accidentally ran over a ground squirrel a couple years ago and cried for 3 days. There was no way I could kill something which was wailing and pleading. Yes, even some dumb video game character’s ‘feelings’ matter to me. I couldn’t leave the Sim to die on its own either. If I was going to kill it then I was going to have to watch. I am responsible for what I create and I am responsible for what I destroy. It’s looking away which allowed the Holocaust to happen. It was other people looking away which allowed the abuse in my mother’s house to go unchecked. How many teachers, how many neighbors, how many NUNS saw my bruises and looked the other way? My mother looked the other way when her husband came into my room at night. She looked the other way when my bloody underpants turned up in the hamper. (Funny, I just realized something. It was right around that time that she put ME in charge of the laundry.) After beating me into a pulp she always fled the house. Not to return until I’d mopped up and bandaged myself. I learned. I learned well and forever that actions have consequence. My own most of all. I own what I do. I own what happens to others because of the things I do. For good or ill I don’t ever look away. Maybe it’s not so weird I can’t kill a Sim. Pondering, ~LA
|
