about as edgy as a bowl of custard

Nearly all of my friends favourite characters tend to be the villains of a story, and I just…I’m almost never a villain sympathiser — except for this boy here, but “sympathiser” isn’t really the right word…he was a very naughty boy, and deserved everything he got, but I still love him. Go figure. XD I always gravitate towards the heroes, and I know it’s silly, but recently I’ve kind of started to wonder…is there…something wrong with me in that respect?

It isn’t that I don’t find their stories compelling, or that I think they have no place in a narrative (?!?! I’m actually bewildered there are people who actually think this kind of thing…there again, I’m also bewildered that there are people who think that writing about a taboo subject means that the author advocates for and approves of said taboo subject in real life…). A good villain is vital to a story, imho. But I never really bond with any of them. My love always goes to the heroes and I’m always far more invested in their struggles.

It speaks of my general naivete and Pollyanna syndrome, I suppose…or maybe that I’m just so sick of my own darkness, I want to bathe in the light wherever I can find it. I don’t know, really.