| rdfs:comment | - The world is but a stage where darkness is the dramatis personae. And people, the faint candles that try to illuminate through it. But these lights are naught but apparitions. And we, humans, the fools that fall for their mystical dance that we call faith. In an effort to salvage some sort of consistency to the vagaries of us weak candlelights, we humans created the concept of hope. And it became the most brightest light to shine through the darkness of this world. But just like the embers of the candlelights that compose us humans, this light called hope is nothing but a clever trompe l'oeil... hiding the truth of this world. Hope supplies us with a forlorn anesthesia to numb our ability to perceive the darkness that comprises this world. Always remaining in this anesthetic state, humans
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| abstract | - The world is but a stage where darkness is the dramatis personae. And people, the faint candles that try to illuminate through it. But these lights are naught but apparitions. And we, humans, the fools that fall for their mystical dance that we call faith. In an effort to salvage some sort of consistency to the vagaries of us weak candlelights, we humans created the concept of hope. And it became the most brightest light to shine through the darkness of this world. But just like the embers of the candlelights that compose us humans, this light called hope is nothing but a clever trompe l'oeil... hiding the truth of this world. Hope supplies us with a forlorn anesthesia to numb our ability to perceive the darkness that comprises this world. Always remaining in this anesthetic state, humans live their lives bound by this ruse called hope. So much are they inured to this ideal that they end up going as far as to become dependent on other sources of light. And they label them such things as "family"... "friends"... "comrades"... "lovers"... It is an escape. Weak candlelights have no other choice. They must rely on these other sources of light to prevent theirs from going out. But it is nothing but folly. Even with a multitude of lights flickering together side by side, they eventually go out as well. And to combat the despair that sinks in as a result, humans seek out more sources of light. Other candlelights. Can you blame us? How else can we combat the languor that comes with the world's truths. We do what we can, because it is all we know to do in order to survive. And yet, it is exactly that which blinds humans to the most obvious truth of it all. We are drowning in the darkness. --- In my youth, I too thought like other humans did. And my candles were the ones I called my siblings. They were my own version of the light of hope. I had nothing to fear so long as I could protect them. After all, so long as my lights in this world exist, there is nothing that can strike me down. I will protect my brothers and keep them warm under my own light. But one died. Abruptly, the light flickered and burnt out. And then two. Soon three. And only one remained. My strength was not yet lost, however. Even with the losses that struck my soul and shook me to my core, the determination I had to protect Izuna, my last remaining candlelight, became all the more brighter. This is human nature. We struggle to fight and to endure, so that the darkness will never devour our lights. When I met him, that son of the Senju, a clan that rivaled the warrior skills of the Uchiha, a new light began to flicker forth. A friendship formed, a rivalry blossomed, and resolve renewed in my mind. But I came to understand another source of darkness. This one was different than the one that composes the world. It was a darkness created by we humans, under the illusion of separation and ideology. We Uchiha and Senju were the most prominent example of this. But Hashirama and I were different. We understood the pain of loss, the feeling of a light being snatched from us and the emptiness associated with it. Perhaps we could serve as lights for one another. I... at least would've liked to think so. But once more, this was a light I could not depend on, because of the darkness that split us apart, coined by the humans as war. What a horrible pain it is, when the candlelights were extinguished one by one. And even more so when a new one arises to take its place and it too is yanked without warning. Because once the collective array of lights begins to diminish, darkness manages to creep in and the truth of this world begins to make its existence known. That is what our Sharingan is. When the darkness of this world touches upon us and is reflected in our souls, those mysterious red eyes take form and force a light to be born that replaces the stolen candlelights. But these lights are even more false than the candlelights were. Because these eyes are lights that do not brighten the falsities, but uncover the truths. Hell is reflected in these eyes. And what a joke it is that our revered eyes of legend were known by those that witnessed the phenomena as the eyes of heaven. How inaccurate a statement. These are eyes of Hell. They reflect the truth of this world, the darkness that composes the world. But despair is still a foe that we Uchiha still engage in an endless tango, even after our eyes transform into these reflections of Hell. Perhaps our human nature is what drives us to refuse submitting to the darkness of our hate. Our inability to accept that which we deny, our tendency to be stubborn when it comes to what we define as the truth... even if said truth is but a lie. In the wars that followed, the endless raging of opposing flames seeking to extinguish one another, Hashirama and I were both dealt further losses. Darkness persistently sought to seep into our souls and rid us of the light of hope. Hashirama was always stronger than I was. No, it was not technique. Nor power. Not even skill was the reason. It is simply this. Hashirama's light remained shining despite his hardships and losses. But I gave into the darkness. Sharingan awakens when an Uchiha touches upon darkness. But it is only natural that a human will continue to fight, keeping their faith in the light of hope. But there comes a time when the fight is lost and darkness manages to corner you. And you are left with only one option. You no longer run. You charge the darkness head on, holding onto a hope within your heart that you will survive. And so I did. This was how I came to awaken my Mangekyō Sharingan. If Sharingan awakens when darkness first touches upon a son of the Uchiha, then the Mangekyō Sharingan is when an Uchiha accepts the futility of fighting the darkness. My desire to protect the remaining lights of my life was so great, I sacrificed myself to the darkness to achieve the power needed to do so. How sadly ironic. But I was still, first and foremost, human. And darkness was the only thing that frightened me. In an act to protect me, Izuna rid himself of his own light and gave me new light. But all this accomplished was assuring that he would eventually die in battle... and I would lose the last remaining light in my world. I was now alone, walking blind in the darkness. Maybe I didn't realize it at first, but eventually the truth came to me when it became obvious just how alone I was. We humans fight to save each other from darkness while thrusting others into darkness. But what is the point? Humans are... temporary. Weak fragile things. How can a light be born from them that would ensure the darkness never creeps into our soul ever again? And it was there that I eventually stumbled upon my answer. I will seek out a true light. An infinite everlasting light that will illuminate the entire world and free us of the world's darkness. Let us lose ourselves in a lie that will last forever. And never again fear darkness.
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