I could prioritize and compromise. Say I'd work only on the big things, like ending war and privation and making the world economy better than it's ever been. I could do a lot of good that way. Lifetimes worth of it, even.
But I don't think the person I am would survive that. Not in the long run. There's going to be immense pressure on me from all quarters to look away from just this one thing, just this one problem, and frankly I'm already doing more of that than I think I really should be. I set aside the situation with North Korea already — when am I going to get back to it? This week? This month? This year? This decade? This century?
It's irresponsible for me to pick and choose my causes on anything other than how much damage is being done each day. But it's impossible for me to maintain that in the long term. I am not a world-saving robot, I am a person. I have foibles and personal desires. I want things to be better rather than worse for my presence in the world, but at some point I need to listen to what my heart wants and not the brutal mathematics, because if I make myself a thing of brutal mathematics I will collapse and be no help to anyone.
This is, ultimately, selfish of me. To care more about some people than others. To work on some problems more than others. But it's more sustainable. I didn't, ultimately, decide to be this being, this Stella, this creature that can save or doom others with a moment's thought. But if I'm to stand against the world, better for me to be myself as honestly and sharply as I can.
And what I am is — I want everyone, every person on earth, to be safe, and happy, and free, and whole. I really mean that. How on earth I'm going to manage that is a tall fucking order but it's the goal.
I have a weakness for the persecuted, I guess you could say. At my heart I am there to be a refuge. I want people to have somewhere to retreat to, somewhere genuinely safe. I'm prioritizing keeping people from dying because I can't fix it if someone dies but I am and have to be more than just keeping people alive.
There was a woman early in the first night. Who wanted me to repair a football trophy that she had broken, for fear of her husband.
There was a world where you'd have had to live marked out, lost, separate from everyone else.
That, I think, is the thing I hate most. The cutting away of people from humanity. Saying they don't count. It's why my harshest punishment is visible marking-out. If you say others don't matter, I would like you to experience that from the other direction. This is petty of me. But it's what I did, by instinct.
I want people to always have a way out. A real way out. I think a lot of people stay trapped of their own volition, out of fear or love or hurt or hope — but for those who have the courage to go, I want their escape to be made manifest.
Sorry, I'm rambling now.