Somehow today, we have to say goodbye... · 7:36pm May 12th, 2014
I suppose that I am somewhat of a materialist. It kinda comes with the prescription when you collect video games, game consoles, plushies, and other collectables like I do. I know that many people consider things like memories and personal experiences more precious than objects, since that will be something completely unique to them, and will remain with them for the rest of their lives. However, in my opinion, that's where the problem lies. If the memory or experience only lives on in your own mind, how will other people ever get to share those things? How can you prove to them that this certain memory is so great when you have nothing to show them? You can tell them your story all you want, but that tale won't be more than a fleeting memory to them the next day. They will never remember it the same way you do, and as a result, they won't realize just how many things you've seen and been through during your life. None of the joy, and none of the sadness.
In contrast, all of my relatives and close friends know of my love of games and popular culture. Even if I rarely speak about them, they know that from the small and subtle game-themed clothing and accessories I wear. And those who've stepped into my room will immediately be greeted by shelf after shelf of games from different eras, consoles spread out and proudly visible under my TV, and the many different character plushies standing around in whatever free space that's left. They can see that I've dedicated my life to this hobby, and they'll know exactly what kind of person I am once they leave.
I guess the point I'm trying to make through all this rambling is that many people put a lot of love into their possessions. Mostly without even realizing it. We take them for granted, sometimes to the point that we never stop to ask ourselves what we'd do without them. Sure, it might not bother some people much when they misplace a toy from their childhood, or an old video tape they filmed when they were young. But for others, the loss of this object leaves a scar on their mind, or more accurately, their past. They lose a bit of themselves, a bit of their identity in the process, and they can never truly bring that back.
Just like how you can't ever truly bring back a lost home.
I remember many years ago when I was still watching the anime version of One Piece, a famous japanese series about a clan of pirates traveling the world on their ship and going on adventures. At the end of one arc, the ship they'd sailed on the entire series broke down, and even the most talented shipwrights in the world explained that it was beyond all repair. So as a final tribute, the heroes decided to give the ship a viking funeral, setting it ablaze and then silently watching it burn down while illuminated flakes of snow began to fall from the sky above them.
To this very day, this funeral is one of the most tear-jerking scenes I've ever seen in my entire life. Because even when I ignored all the hints the current arc had thrown at us about how the ship was actually sentient and not just an inanimate object, I realized just how much both the heroes and myself had grown to love it. Sentient or not, the ship had been with us from almost the very beginning, and with it as our base and zone of comfort, we'd followed our heroes' journey and experienced all the happiness and heartbreak they'd gone through. Without realizing it, we attached our memories to that ship, and it would become the first thing we thought of whenever we recalled the show.
The ship was their home. And the loss of it marked a permanent point of no return for their journey, and for us viewers. A new stage of the heroes' lives had begun, and whether we missed the old days or not, we had no choice but to move on.
I didn't realize that I'd grown just as attached to Golden Oaks Library as I had to the ship in One Piece until I saw the remains of its burning trunk. Just like how snowflakes had fallen during the ship's funeral, burning pages slowly floated to the ground around it, and I found myself reminiscing a memory the ponies' had experienced in the tree for each paper that passed my vision. I remembered when Twilight first moved into it, thinking that it would just be a temporary living quarters while she finished her business in Ponyville. I remembered the countless times Rainbow had crashed into it, Applejack's and Rarity's slumber party, and that time Twilight got mad at Spike and made the whole thing jump high into the air from her explosive rage. For just a brief moment, a smile crossed my lips... and then the threat of falling tears made itself known as I suddenly realized that this was the end of that joyful, wondrous era.
Golden Oaks Library is gone. And even though we still have Ponyville, the girls, and Twilight's new castle thanks to the Tree of Harmony... we've lost a home. Not just Twilight's home, but our home. The center of all our adventures in My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. If you guys want to move right ahead and tackle whatever the show has in store for us next, go ahead without me. I'll just... sit here a moment and... watch the sparks.
...They're still warm.
I was like
and proceeded to feel empty inside..... so many episodes.... So many fanfics centered around that library and it's all we have left to remember it by now. Maybe they'll rebuild it but it just won't be the same.
If you ask me, the Golden Oaks Library was similar to a nest, and Twilight was like a baby bird.
Way back in Season 1, you could say she hatched from her egg when she learned about the magic of friendship.
Her ascension in Magical Mystery Cure symbolized how she was essentially learning to fly, and growing out of being a fledgling.
However, there is only one way for a bird to actually become independent, and that is by leaving the nest.
Does this make you feel better about what happened?
Man, are the writers trying to make us cry? I was in shock when I first saw the library get destroyed. It was a "Did that really just happen?" moment.
You scared me into thinking you were leaving the fandom and cancelling your story.
At least now I can share your sentiments mourning the loss of poor Golden Oaks Library.
2105652 Makes for good symbolism. And at least she got another tree-like home to fill the void, much like the Straw Hat Pirates got a new and more functional ship.