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Franklin Richards I PSI
"At my age, you start to reflect on yourself and inevitably compare yourself to your father, out of curiosity. Reed is hard to overlook.. even when he leaves the room, something of him remains. He thinks faster than others speak, and it often seems as if he has already found the answer before the question has been fully asked. I got that from him... that restlessness when a solution seems within reach but isn’t quite there yet. But while my father dissects problems like mathematical bodies, I listen first to what lies in between. For him, people are mainly equations with variables, even though I sometimes think there are moments when he wants to see people the way I see them. For me, they are... stories, with breaks, repetitions, sometimes with logical errors that should not be corrected because they are part of it, with flaws that make them unique... something that was created not to be bound to any image of perfection, even if social media tries to convince us otherwise.
Reed loves order, I love everything that has a deeper, emotional meaning. He wants to understand how the universe works, and I tend to wonder why it puts up with us at all and how long it will continue to do so. Sometimes he makes jokes.. oh for fucks sake... far too dry, barely understandable, nothing you can relate to. Sometimes they are even... hurtful, because he finds it difficult, almost impossible to empathize with others and cannot understand that not everyone finds it funny when you allude to mistakes that weigh on them... even when he tries to explain them humorously. But let’s put it this way... humor is something that doesn’t always come together, there are no equations for it, even if my father certainly imagines he could find one.
My jokes, on the other hand, tend to be messssssy as hell. They come too early or too late, usually when they’re actually inappropriate. That’s because I sometimes have no filter, and stories from my life seem completely absurd to many people, yet I don’t hold back from telling them. I think it’s something connected to the soul and character... something you can’t always control and maybe don’t want to. I admire Reed sometimes... really. That damn discipline that even my grandfather couldn’t impose on me, his willingness to make sacrifices, that almost painful responsibility he bears without ever complaining about it. But I’ve also learned that genius alone isn’t enough, even if it doesn’t seem directly related to madness at first glance... it’s not enough for relationships, closeness, or comfort. When my father saves the multiverse, he thinks about maintaining stability and protecting the body of the world. When I do it, it crosses my mind that it would be a shame if all the diversity of people, all these different spirits, were to disappear... if there were no one left to talk to, if there were no more love to share with each other.
I do believe that my father is capable of love... in fact, I’m sure he is, he just shows it differently... and that’s okay, isn’t it? Sometimes I would like to swap places with him, just for a day, just a little break from the smoke of emotions that overwhelms me from time to time. But when I see the despair in my father’s eyes when he realizes .. or thinks .. that he cannot live up to love... then I think that I am quite comfortable in my own head."