God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. Yet his shadow still looms. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it?
—Nietzsche, The Gay Science, Section 125, tr. Walter Kaufmann
I am so sorry this is so long and it’s not even organised or very good you said send metas and there’s one I’ve always wanted to write but couldn’t post on my own blog because I’m a coward who is afraid of hate you don’t have to read this or post it or anything if you don’t want to but I’m going to send it because it feels good to get it off of my chest.
My relatable characters are almost always girls. My sister says that that’s because nobody writes male characters like me, not in a ‘I’m not like other girls’ sort of way. Just that there’s a large portion of male characters that are… not me. I don’t know why. But anyway, because of that, Doctor Who has meant a lot to me. Especially Eleven’s era, partly because that’s the one I started with, but also because the characters all work for me.
Like, where to start? Eleven. Eleven is very similar to me, and not in the goofy sort of way. He’s goofy because he wants to impress people and make them happy, and make them laugh, and hides all the dark bits all bottled up inside. It really kills me when people dismiss his character for being unrealistically dark and goofy, because… finally, a male character who I could, at least somewhat, relate to! I’ll always love all of the Doctors for different reasons, but Eleven (and Seven) fit with me for that very important reason.