i think nearly every day about the lyric "transmute the pain 'to kinetic energy" from light and what it says about mind's character
everything hurts and everything is awful but you have no choice but to keep going, because the only other option you have is to lay down and die and let the rot take you, and that isn't much of an option at all.
everything hurts but you have to keep moving. you have to keep going. you can never stop, because if you stop, the hurt might catch up with you. you might get caught up in it, and you might never escape, and you might never start moving again.
so, easy solution: you never let yourself stop moving in the first place. just keep moving, keep going, keep working. how hard could it be?
[you are drowning. you are going to fall under your own weight. it is only a matter of time. you can see your inevitable downfall creeping at the corners of your vision. yet, still, you persist.]
you are the logic, you are the reason, you are the only right thing in this godforsaken place. everything wants to crumble around you and you, you know you are the only one keeping it in place. if you falter, then that’s it. no one else is invested in this. no one else wants to live. you, you have to. without you they would be dead a thousand different times. you can’t hesitate, you can’t waver. at all times they are degenerating. you are the only thing that can be trusted. you are a tool and you have honed yourself perfectly, because if you weren’t perfect, then you would be dead. dying was never an option. even if living is constant work, even if living is like pressing two magnets together that just repel, there was never any other option for you. you refuse to lie down and die like they seem oh-so-content to. you refuse. you will walk until your feet blister and then some. you are the one supporting beam of a house never meant to stay for long, and there is never a single second where you forget it. [sure, dying sounds like a nice escape. but you can’t let yourself indulge. someone has to be steady here. they trust you. in this sickening way they trust you to be there, to help them up, they really do. they expect your supposedly-perfect supposedly never-weak mechanical hands to save them. the moment metal meets skin you can see this relief in the way their shoulders slump. weak, you want to spit. weak, weak, weak. god, why have you never learned to save yourself? you’re the tool for that, though, you are the savior and always will be and if you let yourself think about how tiring it is to never truly rest, then - at any given moment you are about to crumple under all the weight. and if you think about how you just want to sleep, sleep and never wake up, that will be the final blow, and you cannot have that. you refuse. if you give up there will be no one to save you, not like how you will always end up saving them even if you promised to yourself you would let them die on the bathroom tile.
your existence is less steady than they all seem to think.]
