WooouTK
TMF Expert
- Joined
- Oct 13, 2021
- Messages
- 526
- Points
- 63
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"You know… there was a time when we believed that those who came from distant lands did so with their eyes wide open. We thought they crossed oceans and deserts not only to trade, but to listen, to learn, to share. To truly see us.
But you… you didn’t look. You observed, yes—but like someone examining an object they don’t quite understand. Like someone weighing its worth before deciding whether it deserves a place in their world.
You left us tools. Good iron. Good edges. We know how to recognize what’s useful. And some of your ideas—yes, some—have served us well. For that, truly, thank you. That is something we honor.
But tell me: was that generosity… or bait?
Did you truly want to give us something… or were you simply planting gratitude, so you could later harvest submission?
From the moment you arrived, I saw how your mouth curled just slightly when tasting our dishes… if you even bothered to try them. How you pushed aside with your fingers anything that didn’t resemble what you were used to. How you looked at our clothes as if they were rags. How you listened to our songs and called them “folklore.” You said it with a smile—but it was an insult dressed up as a compliment.
You brought books. Piles of them. With heavy covers and even heavier words. You read us passages like casting spells, convinced they could cleanse something you had already judged as dirty.
And when we stayed silent, you thought it was respect.
It wasn’t. It was courtesy—the kind it seems no one ever taught you in your own land. But don’t worry. Around here, we have a fairly infallible way of dealing with the rude and the arrogant. And something tells me—judging by the look on your face after we buried you, after we took off your shoes, as we began tying your fingers, and especially when you saw the feathers—that today, you, who came playing the teacher, are going to be an excellent student in the lesson we’re about to teach you… about manners and respect..."
"You know… there was a time when we believed that those who came from distant lands did so with their eyes wide open. We thought they crossed oceans and deserts not only to trade, but to listen, to learn, to share. To truly see us.
But you… you didn’t look. You observed, yes—but like someone examining an object they don’t quite understand. Like someone weighing its worth before deciding whether it deserves a place in their world.
You left us tools. Good iron. Good edges. We know how to recognize what’s useful. And some of your ideas—yes, some—have served us well. For that, truly, thank you. That is something we honor.
But tell me: was that generosity… or bait?
Did you truly want to give us something… or were you simply planting gratitude, so you could later harvest submission?
From the moment you arrived, I saw how your mouth curled just slightly when tasting our dishes… if you even bothered to try them. How you pushed aside with your fingers anything that didn’t resemble what you were used to. How you looked at our clothes as if they were rags. How you listened to our songs and called them “folklore.” You said it with a smile—but it was an insult dressed up as a compliment.
You brought books. Piles of them. With heavy covers and even heavier words. You read us passages like casting spells, convinced they could cleanse something you had already judged as dirty.
And when we stayed silent, you thought it was respect.
It wasn’t. It was courtesy—the kind it seems no one ever taught you in your own land. But don’t worry. Around here, we have a fairly infallible way of dealing with the rude and the arrogant. And something tells me—judging by the look on your face after we buried you, after we took off your shoes, as we began tying your fingers, and especially when you saw the feathers—that today, you, who came playing the teacher, are going to be an excellent student in the lesson we’re about to teach you… about manners and respect..."
Thanks for sharing them here. 
