[He makes a deeply skeptical noise, then pauses, thinking about it.
Describe them. He can describe them. Not directly, not well, but he remembers what Arthur said about poetry, about that poem making him feel strong. Maybe a poem can make Jedao feel how Yellow does.]
I am less of myself and more of the sun; The beat of life is wearing me To an incomplete oblivion, Yet not to the certain dignity Of death. They cannot even die Who have not lived.
The hungry jaws Of space snap at my unlearned eye, And time tears in my flesh like claws.
If I am not life’s, if I am not death’s, Out of chaos I must re-reap The burden of untasted breaths. Who has not waked may not yet sleep.
Bitterness, a lot of it. Grief for a life you haven't gotten to live, and bitterness at how skullfucking unfair that is, when so many other people just...get to live, get to have so many things snatched away from you. Fear that it's all you'll ever have, that you're built wrong, that even if you got the chance it wouldn't work for you, somehow. Resentment and rage and loneliness, because you're not all one thing and not all the other, and if nobody is like you and nobody understands then - then you're alone even when you're surrounded by people, if they aren't your people, if you don't have a people, and the ones who could have been didn't welcome you, and you don't know if there's anywhere you'll belong.
That's the feelings the poem made me think of, anyway. I used to feel like that....a lot. I don't feel like that very often now, though. And when I do it's usually just little pieces of it, instead of all of it together.
[The way you feel now is not the way you'll feel forever.]
It's not really about supposed to or not supposed to be. Feelings happen in lots of ways. But they're a little easier to deal with when they're not all at once.
Feelings are kind of...warning signs? They're a part of you that's trying to help you, but all it knows how to do is yell real loud. They can get quieter if you kind of...give them some attention, and then say yes, I heard your warning, I understand. You don't have to shout anymore.
So...usually, when you're mad, one of the things your anger is telling you is, hey, it's not okay he treated you like that! It's not right!
And sometimes, when someone you're already angry with is nice, it's confusing, because...why are they being nice, when they were mean before? And maybe it's because they're sorry, or because they were scared before, or they just know more now, or lots of reasons, but if you're still angry with them over the first thing, it can almost feel worse when they're nice, because it feels like...pressure, to not care about the first thing. But it was still fucked up! It's still not okay, it doesn't just get erased.
So maybe the anger is saying something like, hey, maybe I'm not ready to forgive you. And I don't have to forgive you, no matter how nice you are, until I'm ready. You get to decide that.
Does that sound like something your anger might be saying?
...Yes. [He's surprised. It's like Jedao took an impossible knot, tugged a couple of threads, and made the whole thing unravel into sensibility.] How did you do that.
Well, partly it's because I had a lot of time alone to think about my feelings, and partly it's because I also had some mind experts asking me a lot of questions that helped me figure out different possibilities, and partly it's a...talent that I have. But I was a lot worse at it three years ago, when I was new.
You can learn to do it too. Asking questions, like you asked me, is already the first step.
[An anxious silence as he thinks about the people Jedao had teaching him things. It only took him three years, but he had multiple teachers, teachers that it sounds like were there just for him.
Moreover, to someone who can only truly remember about a week, three years seems like an eternity of time.]
I don't have mind experts. How long will it take without them?
You don't have to be that good at it to do it though. I mean - if it takes an hour of rambling around muttering and grumbling to yourself, or a friend, until you find out what the fuck is underneath all the rubble of these feelings - once you've cleared some of the rubble and gotten a look at it, you still know, if that makes sense?
That's one of the reasons humans offer to talk about stuff so much. Because they've experienced that, even if they don't know exactly how it works consciously.
And I'm here to help you, while you learn. Anytime you need.
...Hm. [He doesn't say anything else for a few long seconds, doesn't say that he doesn't need or want Jedao's help, which is the snarling defense painted over his nerves at letting anyone know more about his feelings.
[Yellow catches it, barely, that last bit of advice. It stops him from hanging up immediately. Gets an uncertain pause, a whole new wave of emotions rolling over him that he doesn't know what to do with.
Instead he gives another little awkward affirmative grunt, and hangs up this time without smashing his communicator against the desk in his room.]
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Describe them. He can describe them. Not directly, not well, but he remembers what Arthur said about poetry, about that poem making him feel strong. Maybe a poem can make Jedao feel how Yellow does.]
I am less of myself and more of the sun;
The beat of life is wearing me
To an incomplete oblivion,
Yet not to the certain dignity
Of death. They cannot even die
Who have not lived.
The hungry jaws
Of space snap at my unlearned eye,
And time tears in my flesh like claws.
If I am not life’s, if I am not death’s,
Out of chaos I must re-reap
The burden of untasted breaths.
Who has not waked may not yet sleep.
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[Soft and punched-out. He hadn't really understood what the Andan and John and Arthur were on about, before.]
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Does it... make sense? Did I use it properly?
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That's the feelings the poem made me think of, anyway. I used to feel like that....a lot. I don't feel like that very often now, though. And when I do it's usually just little pieces of it, instead of all of it together.
[The way you feel now is not the way you'll feel forever.]
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...Are they not supposed to be all at once?
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But they're always all at once.
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[Jedao tends to think that both he and Yellow are both new and young, but they're still different things.]
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How do you make them less all at once?
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Like, okay. Let's start with the anger.
[Easier, Jedao imagines, for Yellow to discuss than fear or sorrow.]
There's a lot of things you're angry about, but pick just one of them for me right now.
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...Arthur being gentle.
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So...usually, when you're mad, one of the things your anger is telling you is, hey, it's not okay he treated you like that! It's not right!
And sometimes, when someone you're already angry with is nice, it's confusing, because...why are they being nice, when they were mean before? And maybe it's because they're sorry, or because they were scared before, or they just know more now, or lots of reasons, but if you're still angry with them over the first thing, it can almost feel worse when they're nice, because it feels like...pressure, to not care about the first thing. But it was still fucked up! It's still not okay, it doesn't just get erased.
So maybe the anger is saying something like, hey, maybe I'm not ready to forgive you. And I don't have to forgive you, no matter how nice you are, until I'm ready. You get to decide that.
Does that sound like something your anger might be saying?
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You can learn to do it too. Asking questions, like you asked me, is already the first step.
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Moreover, to someone who can only truly remember about a week, three years seems like an eternity of time.]
I don't have mind experts. How long will it take without them?
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You don't have to be that good at it to do it though. I mean - if it takes an hour of rambling around muttering and grumbling to yourself, or a friend, until you find out what the fuck is underneath all the rubble of these feelings - once you've cleared some of the rubble and gotten a look at it, you still know, if that makes sense?
That's one of the reasons humans offer to talk about stuff so much. Because they've experienced that, even if they don't know exactly how it works consciously.
And I'm here to help you, while you learn. Anytime you need.
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.......annnnnnd then he hangs up.]
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[Jedao says softly, warmly. Although -]
If you ever wanted to be called something else, not what Arthur called you, that'd be okay.
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Instead he gives another little awkward affirmative grunt, and hangs up this time without smashing his communicator against the desk in his room.]