Being stolen of what I had so precious to me, I'm bare and unclad of defense. More than ever others look powerful to me, enhanced by my own sensation of lowered power. I feel like I've got nothing, like I know nothing. Could this be what Socrates meant? Could this be the feeling that the only thing I know is that I know nothing? That the more I learn, the less I feel I've learned? But what the hell is worth such an unrewarding paradox?
Could it be that we get less cocksure about ourselves when we eventually understand the lesser and ignoble feelings other have mentioned as despicable and we notice we aren't safe against them, and so understand them as being part of our simple humanity? I have to fully comprehend that Ilium is probably dictatorial and segregative by keeping Ersatz away. By some reason I can't still comprehend, they get their enantiodromic power by being subjugated. Strange this force that is in the aid for the lesser ones...
I've always had the notion that we just feel hurt for things that matter to us, things we love (or feel too attached to them, or feeling like we're entitled to them). We just feel those petty feelings when we feel threatened. The more we get the very kernel of our foundations threatened, the crazier and insane we get. Murderous thoughts are born this way, I guess, when we are bothered by the very existence of the threatening subject for our foundations.
Don't worry, there's no desire of murder inside me. I've just experienced very deep feelings of jealousy and something that reminds me of usual hipster behavior of avoiding mainstream. As I feel this strange desperate need to seek for something that can only be mine and that will redirect resources back to Ilium, I've been torn from my connection with my flames, like I just had been told I'm not a good person at all. Vesta is the one least affected by this, as she still has her role in the parlament, but Raseri is already having the majority of the parliament on his side, and he's leading the investiment way too much on lazurian matters, while Vesta is trying to turn that investment again to attracting traders again back in.
The thing is, I still need something to protect me, something that is just mine and no one else can't ever have it. My creative power would be it, but then I was suddenly finding myself without it. Hephaestus has had all his apparels confiscated, all his books burned. Vesta couldn't believe Raseri could be so stupid. Ilium was void of its main specialty. No trances, no delight of inspiration and creation. I am left both filthy and empty.