Written By Jael
June 17, 2020, 11:24 a.m.(6/28/1013 AR)
This has been a week of revelations.
And heartburn. Ugh. It wasn't like this with Nora.
And heartburn. Ugh. It wasn't like this with Nora.
Written By Raziel
June 17, 2020, 8:49 a.m.(6/27/1013 AR)
To simplify my last entry even further:
Don't count on others being there when you need them. That way, if they are, it'll be a pleasant surprise.
If they're not? It's what you had prepared for anyway.
Don't count on others being there when you need them. That way, if they are, it'll be a pleasant surprise.
If they're not? It's what you had prepared for anyway.
Written By Raziel
June 17, 2020, 8:29 a.m.(6/27/1013 AR)
Something that has recently come to mind: To blame others for not being there when you needed them is a waste of time. Perhaps they indeed are all traitors worthy of scorn. Or they were late in showing up when you needed them. Or they just have no idea who you are and you've grossly overstated your importance to the common mortal.
Whatever the case, if you expect everyone to always be there, you will be unprepared for when the times when you have to stand alone. There are always such times, no matter how many friends you have, no matter how loyal.
You can prepare for them and when they come fight harder than you ever have. Or you can pretend you will never be alone and afterwards whine that there was nobody there to save you. If you're lucky enough to still have a voice.
Whatever the case, if you expect everyone to always be there, you will be unprepared for when the times when you have to stand alone. There are always such times, no matter how many friends you have, no matter how loyal.
You can prepare for them and when they come fight harder than you ever have. Or you can pretend you will never be alone and afterwards whine that there was nobody there to save you. If you're lucky enough to still have a voice.
Written By Piccola
June 17, 2020, 8:17 a.m.(6/27/1013 AR)
I spent years walking through life without any family. Now that I have reconnected with them, however, I cannot imagine how I got by without them. And hearing that another must do the same, I can feel the terror from so many years ago come down upon me.
Written By Lys
June 16, 2020, 11:55 p.m.(6/27/1013 AR)
It's quite strange how a single moment of kindness, can cause you to have faith in your fellow man again.
Written By Lucita
June 16, 2020, 7:48 p.m.(6/26/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Ailith
A Song of Hope, and songs of hope are a weapon against disheartenment, against sorrow. It was a wonder to see how it affected those who heard and sang it. Thank you for sharing it with others.
Written By Cyril
June 16, 2020, 7:25 p.m.(6/26/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Victus
I think Prince William Thrax said the same thing...
Written By Sunaia
June 16, 2020, 7:07 p.m.(6/26/1013 AR)
The first thing I did was run.
I ran and ran and ran. This isn't as romantic nor as dramatic as it sounds. I ran until exhaustion overtook me and at least I was able to sleep. I don't remember where - but the spring evening was mild and that pile of dogs was comfortable to snuggle between.
Sweet, the warm smell of their fur and their terrible hare-baited breath. It was a comfort. Gods, having a couple of uninterrupted hours didn't salvage the aftermath of that frantic pace come morning. I was, in truth, a mess. Hair disordered, cheeks rough red and tear-streaked. Moonlight flatters me. But, sunlight? Never. It reveals. It lays bare everything beneath its merciless shine. Unforgiving. Bright. Even that open swathe of robin's egg blue sky seemed strangely accusatory. It wasn't. It was just me. My thoughts.
It took me far too long to reconcile my situation. I had run out of tears, run out of the energy to run further, run out of reasons not to face myself - to face my missteps. Countless missteps.
(It almost doesn't seem like such a big deal, does it Scholar? When I phrase it that way - misstep.)
But they were mistakes. I held myself firm, made myself as impassive as carved marble, and I forced myself to be accountable for my mistakes. For how long? I don't remember. There was enough time to be uncomfortable in my own company. I've been used to that. Familiar with keeping to myself in the forests between the capital city and Ashford lands. Surviving, meditating. There were days that I never spoke a word. Neither to myself nor the dogs. Keeping my eyes vaguely focused on some tree - or some large rock that was slightly off-center of the lake that I kept my camp near. I meditated.
Honestly, there are so many days of inconsolable drooping in the shadows of a willow that one can take before it's too much. There's still so much to do, learn, explore, mend, and if I should stumble - I know I'm agile enough to catch my footing and begin again. Emotions are weapons, aren't they? In a fit of uncontrollable temper one can wield emotions like a mace, and if that someone (me - I mean me) wields my emotions as carelessly as I did it's like handing a mace to an untrained soldier. They can cause damage.
They can, irrevocably, fuck things up.
(I really, really hope that I didn't fuck it all up.)
And I am my father's daughter - my mother's daughter. An Ashford. With the training and raising that they did of me, their youngest, in the image that they allowed _me_ to shape and form. Why has it taken me so long to acknowledge that, Scholar? (Rhetorical question, mostly. Mostly.) My choices are my own. My will is my own. My reactions to all that I am exposed to are my own. Why would I spoil that gift of choice, of freedom - in my own self-misery? In pettiness? In useless anger? These are not things I should be spending this time - my life - on.
And the sky, again, turned from black - to gray - to sleepy pastel dawn. I broke down my camp. I called the dogs to heel at my side.
I walked back home.
I ran and ran and ran. This isn't as romantic nor as dramatic as it sounds. I ran until exhaustion overtook me and at least I was able to sleep. I don't remember where - but the spring evening was mild and that pile of dogs was comfortable to snuggle between.
Sweet, the warm smell of their fur and their terrible hare-baited breath. It was a comfort. Gods, having a couple of uninterrupted hours didn't salvage the aftermath of that frantic pace come morning. I was, in truth, a mess. Hair disordered, cheeks rough red and tear-streaked. Moonlight flatters me. But, sunlight? Never. It reveals. It lays bare everything beneath its merciless shine. Unforgiving. Bright. Even that open swathe of robin's egg blue sky seemed strangely accusatory. It wasn't. It was just me. My thoughts.
It took me far too long to reconcile my situation. I had run out of tears, run out of the energy to run further, run out of reasons not to face myself - to face my missteps. Countless missteps.
(It almost doesn't seem like such a big deal, does it Scholar? When I phrase it that way - misstep.)
But they were mistakes. I held myself firm, made myself as impassive as carved marble, and I forced myself to be accountable for my mistakes. For how long? I don't remember. There was enough time to be uncomfortable in my own company. I've been used to that. Familiar with keeping to myself in the forests between the capital city and Ashford lands. Surviving, meditating. There were days that I never spoke a word. Neither to myself nor the dogs. Keeping my eyes vaguely focused on some tree - or some large rock that was slightly off-center of the lake that I kept my camp near. I meditated.
Honestly, there are so many days of inconsolable drooping in the shadows of a willow that one can take before it's too much. There's still so much to do, learn, explore, mend, and if I should stumble - I know I'm agile enough to catch my footing and begin again. Emotions are weapons, aren't they? In a fit of uncontrollable temper one can wield emotions like a mace, and if that someone (me - I mean me) wields my emotions as carelessly as I did it's like handing a mace to an untrained soldier. They can cause damage.
They can, irrevocably, fuck things up.
(I really, really hope that I didn't fuck it all up.)
And I am my father's daughter - my mother's daughter. An Ashford. With the training and raising that they did of me, their youngest, in the image that they allowed _me_ to shape and form. Why has it taken me so long to acknowledge that, Scholar? (Rhetorical question, mostly. Mostly.) My choices are my own. My will is my own. My reactions to all that I am exposed to are my own. Why would I spoil that gift of choice, of freedom - in my own self-misery? In pettiness? In useless anger? These are not things I should be spending this time - my life - on.
And the sky, again, turned from black - to gray - to sleepy pastel dawn. I broke down my camp. I called the dogs to heel at my side.
I walked back home.
Written By Ravna
June 16, 2020, 6:23 p.m.(6/26/1013 AR)
D'you think all the dudes from the old stories and shit, y'know, the ones that deal with like, monsters and shit, d'you think they just have...y'know...real small di--I mean, think about it, y'know? They always summon this like, thing, y'know? In the story. That thing always has a - DARK AND TERRIBLE PRIIIICE - like, man, just hire some goons. Damn.
Written By Mikani
June 16, 2020, 5:08 p.m.(6/26/1013 AR)
So much to learn. So much to research. Back to the library with me.
Written By Bahiya
June 16, 2020, 4:53 p.m.(6/26/1013 AR)
I always look forward to the rain. I suspect the seasons here will suit me fine.
Written By Ravna
June 16, 2020, 11:09 a.m.(6/26/1013 AR)
If you had to pick, which would you choose?
No, no, no. You only get these three choices, man. You get to only pick one, and, all you know is: 'Gee, Ravna Culler did, yes, just put three cups down in front of me. Claims there's a shiny thing there, too. Under one. Mhmm. Yes. Certainly.'
So, to play my man, you gotta give me ten silve-- well OF COURSE IT IS A GAMBLE, IT IS AN ANALOGY ON LIFE!
Hahaaaaaa! So, you don't play. That's a choice too. So four choices. But if you play in life...you gotta gamble, baby. Always gotta gamble. Always a thing you can lose.
Everyone has a thing they can lose. Or gain. There's winning for gambling, yeah? Yeeeaaah - oooh, NOW you wanna play?
Nope. You chose. Bored now byyyyeeeeee!
No, no, no. You only get these three choices, man. You get to only pick one, and, all you know is: 'Gee, Ravna Culler did, yes, just put three cups down in front of me. Claims there's a shiny thing there, too. Under one. Mhmm. Yes. Certainly.'
So, to play my man, you gotta give me ten silve-- well OF COURSE IT IS A GAMBLE, IT IS AN ANALOGY ON LIFE!
Hahaaaaaa! So, you don't play. That's a choice too. So four choices. But if you play in life...you gotta gamble, baby. Always gotta gamble. Always a thing you can lose.
Everyone has a thing they can lose. Or gain. There's winning for gambling, yeah? Yeeeaaah - oooh, NOW you wanna play?
Nope. You chose. Bored now byyyyeeeeee!
Written By Mabelle
June 16, 2020, 6:32 a.m.(6/25/1013 AR)
Not all gems sparkle and not all that sparkle is a gem.
Written By Malcolm
June 15, 2020, 1:56 p.m.(6/24/1013 AR)
Back to the start. That's not such a terrible thing. There's no real way to go about it -- I got to continue on. I'm sure I'll find it. (Whatever it is. Is that TOO vague, Scholar? Fine.) It has to do with answers to questions I didn't know needed asking. Like: What's next?"
Written By Raziel
June 15, 2020, 1:13 p.m.(6/24/1013 AR)
To put my last entry into simpler terms.
You have the mirror that won't tell you that your outfit makes you look like a bloated buffoon and the one that will.
It's up to you whether you want to know before or when everyone at the party is laughing at you.
You have the mirror that won't tell you that your outfit makes you look like a bloated buffoon and the one that will.
It's up to you whether you want to know before or when everyone at the party is laughing at you.
Written By Raziel
June 15, 2020, 12:56 p.m.(6/24/1013 AR)
I will not speak in the name of Mirrormasks, Scholar, because for one I am a disciple, not a Godsworn, and second because by their nature Mirrormasks are as far as could be from united in thought.
That's the point.
So while some of my brethren are happy to embrace their passions and do the same for others', I offer a different reflection. If you're a lying, slothful, ignorant fool of a man, then that's what you are and there is no reason for you to stay that way. Being aware one has flaws and failings is all well and good, but they must be acted upon. Simply sitting there and saying you're an angry person without doing anything about it is a waste of time. Mine especially.
And no, there is no upside to being a lying, slothful, ignorant fool of a man. Trying to justify it is also a waste of time.
Some mirrors are happy to soothe egos and tell them they're special and beautiful in their moral failings. I prefer the mirrors that speak the truth and do away with the nonsense.
That's the point.
So while some of my brethren are happy to embrace their passions and do the same for others', I offer a different reflection. If you're a lying, slothful, ignorant fool of a man, then that's what you are and there is no reason for you to stay that way. Being aware one has flaws and failings is all well and good, but they must be acted upon. Simply sitting there and saying you're an angry person without doing anything about it is a waste of time. Mine especially.
And no, there is no upside to being a lying, slothful, ignorant fool of a man. Trying to justify it is also a waste of time.
Some mirrors are happy to soothe egos and tell them they're special and beautiful in their moral failings. I prefer the mirrors that speak the truth and do away with the nonsense.
Written By Iseulet
June 15, 2020, 8:09 a.m.(6/23/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Valdemar
I heard that heating up a silver spoon and pressing it to the bite takes the itch right out.
Written By Gaston
June 15, 2020, 12:23 a.m.(6/23/1013 AR)
The memorial for the Thralls that had fallen at Sungreet was a sharp reminder that freedom is not gained just with eloquent words and pretty statements. Usually they are fiercely fought for with the price of blood and death. Sacrifices. So many sacrifices just so others have a chance to live freely. I cannot forget, I must not forget the price one pays when taking the risk to break their chains. Whether the chains are held by slave masters or something even darker, I cannot stand idly by.
Written By Raziel
June 14, 2020, 11:40 p.m.(6/23/1013 AR)
Since I'm already here, Scholar, I've another entry in mind.
Since I spoke of service before regarding the Peers, I include political matches in this. Yes, yes, there can be love in them, it's not required anywhere for the marriage to be an absolutely horrible experience. It doesn't need to be love at first sight, we've plenty of matches right now that have been political and affection has grown between the two.
We also have examples where it most decidedly did not, but good on them for doing their duty to their Houses and people and sticking to it.
Funny one, Scholar, but no. You may as well write it down and reassure all unmarried ladies that I very much doubt Bisland hates anyone enough to ever try and match them with me. Even I would consider it a reprehensible and inhuman act.
Since I spoke of service before regarding the Peers, I include political matches in this. Yes, yes, there can be love in them, it's not required anywhere for the marriage to be an absolutely horrible experience. It doesn't need to be love at first sight, we've plenty of matches right now that have been political and affection has grown between the two.
We also have examples where it most decidedly did not, but good on them for doing their duty to their Houses and people and sticking to it.
Funny one, Scholar, but no. You may as well write it down and reassure all unmarried ladies that I very much doubt Bisland hates anyone enough to ever try and match them with me. Even I would consider it a reprehensible and inhuman act.
Written By Raziel
June 14, 2020, 11:31 p.m.(6/23/1013 AR)
I met a friend from my youth today. It went about as well as expected. Awkward attempts at small talk, clumsy questions about family, uncomfortable silences. The usual reaction.
Clearly I should work on my social graces.
Clearly I should work on my social graces.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.