Star Date H2013.05-27 Personal Log Entry:
Preparations for departure have been moving along at a steady, if not relaxed pace. With our new coordinates set, most other cadets seem to be teeming with anxiety or enthusiasm over the details of their voyage and eventual assignment. She, however, sometimes worries if something may not be the matter with her since she can't seem to feel the same sort of enthusiasm. As a fellow cadet (staying in port for further medical specialization) and steadfast friend aptly supposed: it's as if her joy has been stolen.
It seems like whenever she hears any news she wants to be happy about, there's an endless list of persons that need to be contacted and made aware of the new status of events. It is as if they feel entitled to this information and have plans of their own that are to be determined on the slightest change she is meant to inform them of. In the event that they are not made aware, she is shamed by their words into believing they think she is playing favorites and does not esteem them as fondly as she truly does. Thus, when new intelligence is delivered to her, instead of experiencing excitement over the new possibilities it presents, she feels scarcely more than a weary obligation to ferret out the information as soon as possible so that others do not have the chance to accuse her.
That being said, she is infinitely grateful that she has a caring support network that is interested in her and what this future mission means for her. She's just resigned to accept the comments of "I seem more excited about this than you do!" and "Thanks for telling me, I had to hear it from so-and-so..." and worse, the bartering of information for status and casting about information in a possessive way, haughtily putting on airs as one superiorly informed.
It's just information. It's not currency. And using it as such--as something to be coveted, hoarded, and distributed with great condescension--is stripping it of any value it would inherently hold...
End Log Entry
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1 comments:
And yet, one can hold out hope that once the adventure has begun, these struggles for attention and bartering of information will have abated to a certain degree. Especially if most of the tales to be told find there home here, for all to see at their leisure outside of an occasional skype-type check in.
As for the adventurers excitement (or lack there of), this particular reader feels that it'll not be until this Alice is truly through the looking glass and finds her first talking flower that she will once more feel the joy in her heart for her journey. Hopefully then, she will be able to enjoy herself (for herself!)
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