You, you say that it's an open world, you say that you won't be angry if I, if I screw up the lesson plan, but when I actually try - no, sorry, if I actually tried, because nothing I've said so far looks like me actually trying, you'd shut me down. You only feel safe to say you won't because you have a bad intuition for what's possible.
And if you didn't know that, now you know.
Pick a, pick a spell out of a hat. Pick one at random, or one that's too iconic to change or delete, and I'll tell you how if you think through the implications it pulps your medieval fantasy setting.
It, it, hurts less, if you tell me that I'm not allowed to optimize too hard, than if you try to convince me that I'm allowed, but you snatch it away when you realize what you've given me.
If you want, I, I'll go back to, I'll go back to not looking closely at or - or - thinking deeply about any of the spells in the rulebook, except insofar as they're useful in combat and if they're too useful in combat I'll stop using them.
Just tell me to do that and I will. You, you can have your fun, open world game where everyone is free to try as hard as they can. Everyone but, but me. Barry isn't going to break anything by trying his hardest, let alone Cheryl, and Arthur's the best at what he does but what he does isn't wide in scope.
You can have a game where they come up with clever tricks and they won't be too clever. But don't tell me that I can do anything I want to do when it isn't true, it hurts too much.