#auuughhhhhhh Good good writing

[daylighteclipsed]

The way Cal’s kyber crystal breaks in half and he takes the physical scraps of his former master’s broken lightsaber and his new master’s abandoned lightsaber — both of which are (spiritually and symbolically) connected to so much pain and horror that’s kept both him and Cere trapped in the past — to forge a brand new lightsaber that’s unlike any other, able to be wielded in halves or as one staff, and is all his own.

A scrapper using the skills he was forced to learn after his whole world was upended, taking this scrap, the broken pieces of his life in front of him, and creating something new and stronger. The past can’t be changed. And once something’s broken, it’s never going to be what it was before. But you can sit with the broken pieces, forever mourning what you’ll never have back. Or you can use those broken pieces to build something new.

Creation from destruction. The past meeting the present to forge the future. Hope bursting from the ashes of despair. Cal’s lightsaber is a literal flame burning away the ice this jedi temple has been suspended in since Order 66. You need that light to cut through the ice and leave. You need it to survive. You need it to move forward.

There’s also something about BD-1 being the only reason Cal doesn’t give up here. The only reason he chooses to try to forge a new blade even with a broken kyber crystal instead of succumbing to hypothermia. BD-1 is this light from the past. It’s given this knowledge, this spark of hope, this tiny flame, by Cordova and told to keep it alive. Keep this light burning after the jedi have fallen. Find someone to help you carry it forward. BD-1 is the flame that lights the torch — Cal. And it’s shown so beautifully in this scene.

[sammygender]

auuughhh god. i want to write i just i wanna write and share my writing :( i hate being a creative type it feels so stupid and cliche and i love math so much and sciences and that’s weird and feels like it can’t coexist the same and i wish i devoted my energy into other peoples characters instead of my own because then people would care… & i dunno what i wanna do when i’m older because fucking hell i just want to write :( i just wanna sit around and write my silly stories and explore my silly themes and i want to make media and create stories and talk about stories and live breathe and die stories. i don’t want to work or write nonfiction or even essays unless the inspiration sparks me i don’t want to be a journalist or a publisher or anything that feels like WORK and i don’t want to do an english degree. i want to go to school and learn code and computers and math and figure things out and then i want to go home and create art all evening write all evening draw all evening plan stories and make movies and play music and i want to get paid for doing those things i don’t want to have the passion sucked out of me by the way the world is and i want people to see what i do and like it!!! is that so hard?? they don’t have to but i want to share things!! im sociable and i think creating a story is the same as starting a conversation except nobody responds. ive got so much to say that’s why i write that’s why i can’t stop writing. i don’t like book form or restricting myself to 90k words or cutting things down or changing characters so it becomes more palatable or accessible i don’t like the fact that if i want to make anything real anything that can get discovered i have to learn something on top of my writing because all i can DO is write. and do math sometimes!!! all i can do is write and do math!!! and those two things don’t even help each other!!! AAARGGHHHHHH