A small, tan coloured book, completely unadorned. The binding is worn and aged, the pages slightly tattered and curling towards the edges. Several small notes peek out here and there from between the sheaves of parchment and pieces of torn blue silk mark places within.
Monday, 06 April 2015
In my waking marcs, I miss everything. I miss the people who create my smiles. The roguess, the bird, the little enchantress, the liar, the lucky one, the dancer. Yet I sleep in the arms of the cleric as I have never slept. Not for a very long time. I sleep in safety, comfort, home. It is ridiculous, no? My thoughts, even on a page, incite my own ridicule and stir the want of my pride, and yet, that pride, it is banked. It is glowing only as the coals of a long set fire. It burns, but it does not rage, not like it ever has.
Perhaps it is only maturity that has banked it. Perhaps. Perhaps it is age and time that has tempered something that once was a blaze in the face of all reason, a beacon in the darkness, a light that guided and drew me. Perhaps. And yet, perhaps it is only the right of things, the want of things, the settle of my shoulders into something that feels right.
Who knows. I have ever been foolish, wanton, flighty. I have ever been passionate and then lost. Alive and then adrift. We age though, and as we age we want not for the things we had before, not for the heat that fed the flames of what we were, but for the embers of what keep us alive, awake, burning.
He is that. Damn him.
Celestia posted @ 20:05 - Link
Saturday, 17 January 2015
Wishing. Wishing never has and never will be reality. I wish for what was, what could be and what I have left behind. I wish for the friendships, loves, connections, hopes and dreams that once were so encompassing. Again though, they wane. I return, I want, I hope, I try, I believe and then, I deflate.
Wishing is not reality. It never was. It never will be, not for any of us.
Celestia posted @ 00:18 - Link
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Monday, 22 December 2014
He sleeps. He sleeps and leaves me right here waiting. Waiting on what? The minion pinned it and, alas even when I agreed with him I could not help myself. If you want someone to sleep, bond them. Whatever little hideaway he has himself in, I am considering retrieving him from it. He's not the worlds most masculine man, after all. It couldn't be all that difficult, though admittedly, my legs don't work like the used to before. Perhaps I shall entice him out with a game of sorts, send out a signal with cups or something? Who knows.
Even so, I have to wake myself. I cannot continue to slumber and leave the people I care about adrift once again. How many times before have we all just drifted back to sleep with nary a word spoken? Lost ourselves to it, only to wake again for what seems like a fraction of a moment before sleep reclaims us once more into its depths. I will battle to wake, for there are people I love, people who deserve to know that I do love them.
They make my life worthwhile. I shall tell them with a smile, it's all about them.
Celestia posted @ 17:34 - Link
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Tuesday, 28 October 2014
I will see it in him still, I know. The way he looked at me as he drove what he knew would burn me most, straight into my soul. But I am old, I am tired of holding grudges that are over nothing but others being human. We are all that, we all screw up at some time. We are all petty and foolish, we are all the mix of our darker and lighter emotions. I have been forgiven mine so many times when I know I have not deserved it.
What good is there in pulling out the drama cat and parading around with it weighing on our shoulders? What does it gain us, truly? It would make me petty. It would degrade me. Everyone needs a save sometimes.
Besides, there was cake.
Celestia posted @ 20:57 - Link
Saturday, 25 October 2014
A little honesty then, if only to myself. I
*droplets of ink mar the page randomly, the simple script is smudged and the words trail off without warning*
Celestia posted @ 07:37 - Link
Friday, 24 October 2014
Celestia posted @ 03:50 - Link
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Wednesday, 22 October 2014
It's the simple things in life. Maybe I am crazy, maybe I am more than most people anticipate dealing with, but I want to be alive. I guess sometimes that makes me difficult. Sometimes it makes me a child, kicking at leaves and climbing trees. I've always had this feeling, this well of something wild that sits somewhere deep in my chest. Sometimes it howls at me to be free, rages until I do something, anything. Run. Just run. Barefoot and laughing. Dive into the lake and swim as hard as I can for the bottom, lungs screaming for air in a mad dash back to the surface. Sing at the top of my voice to nothing but open space. Roar a challenge to the world from atop the highest mountain I can find. See just how close I can actually get to the edge or the wave, or the fire.
Really, looking at it that way I can see how overwhelming it could be. Sometimes I can notice it, that caught in the lantern-light look in their eyes when I catch hold and drag them along with me, and I realise, I can't do that. I shouldn't do that. Then I tamp it back down from where it bubbled up. Fold it back into the box. Get a grip on myself and plaster on the grown up.
But, don't you just want to feel a little beautiful?
Celestia posted @ 19:27 - Link
Monday, 20 October 2014
I have a philosophy, one born of will and logic, that we may reap only that which we sow. If I have friendship, it is because I have given it. If I have earned trust, it is because I have shared it. It has taken time to reveal it, experience to understand it, and empathy to embrace it. With it I know that within myself, this time around, I will not fall. If I have truly earned it then I will reap it, if not then I will sow again.
If I can keep to that I will know that I did my part, and whatever may come, in whichever aspect of my life, I was not found wanting.
Celestia posted @ 05:19 - Link
Wednesday, 15 October 2014
What do I want? I want the snow on my nose and the sand under my feet. I want mud pies and climbing trees. I want dancing in the street, playing in the leaves and tales in the darkness. I want silence and I want noise. I want to hear everything, touch everything, see everything, and I want to do it all twice, thrice if I am lucky.
I want to hold hands, I want to scream at the top of my lungs until there is no breath left in me. I want to sit for marcs and marcs and do nothing, not a thing, just be. I want to push my hands through the earth and soar amid the skies. I want to run, for no reason other than just the pure exhilaration of it. I want to argue, I want to engage with everything. I want to solve riddles. I want to close my eyes and breathe what it is to be content. I want to see laughter in eyes and hearts on sleeves. I want to be free and I want to be caught. I want to listen. I want to talk. I want to be challenged.
I want ups and downs, ins and outs. I want joy and pain. I want sorrow, love, laughter and no regrets. I want to have tried, and even if I fail, I want that too. I want to dance in the flames. I want to feel the cold seeping in at me and I want to feel the warmth melting it away. I want laughter lines and to have earned them truthfully. I want smiles, as many as I can get and any way I can get them. I want to aim high. I want to think and I never want to stop. I want to question. I want to hide, but I want to be found. I want darkness, for only then can I appreciate the colours.
There is more I want, I want to go on endlessly.
I want the world and I want everything in it.
Celestia posted @ 18:55 - Link
Monday, 13 October 2014
Eventually he will cave. With enough time and the right mood, a little dusting of his ego, a little challenge to his pride. Oh it will be mine. If for no other reason now than my own pride, I will have it.
As if some mangy old firework was ever going to do. I don't care how sparkly it could be. He thinks he can palm me off and I will bounce away like it's all over.
Oh no, not a chance. This is a battle and I will win.
In the words of a little pocket-sized prince:
"It isn't the size of the dog in the fight; it's the size of the fight in the dog."
Celestia posted @ 07:16 - Link
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Saturday, 11 October 2014
There have been many moments in my life where I have felt fear, for I am afraid so very much of the time. The fear of losing a friend, the fear of facing an adversary, the fear of screwing up so completely that things cannot be fixed. They come, they consume me as I face them, but eventually they are resolved. Eventually they pass to become sorrow or triumph, regret or determination. But there is one fear that I keep. There is one fear so visceral in its intensity that it keeps me.
I have bound it in iron will. I have buried it deep in labyrinths of misdirection. I have surrounded it with polished walls of pride, and I have encased it all in armour of nonchalance and pantomime. Yet still it keeps me. Still it rages and boils in its cage. Still it wakes me from slumber, seizing my core so tightly that it pounds a cacophony of dread against my chest. It trails claws of terror along my spine in rivulets of purest panic, and leaves me choking on the air around me, barren and defeated.
I have not faced it fully in so long. I have stripped away the armour and peeked over the walls and it sends me scurrying back out with my heart cradled in my hands in mere moments. Could I face it? Could I break it open into the full light of day and challenge it? Could I stand eye to eye, toe to toe, and have the faith that I need in order to banish it?
Can I put the fate of all my battles, all my darkness, in the trust of anyone else.
Celestia posted @ 06:26 - Link
Wednesday, 08 October 2014
I think I have always been a little afraid of change. Change tends to mean broken. I am always worried that it will never be for the better and can only ever seem to see the end of things, rather than the beginnings of the new. I build up habits, get comfortable in my role and when that seems to change, things fall to pieces. I am not as bold as I once was, I do not trust myself to be able to deal with the consequences of my actions as well as I once would have. I cannot just jump and hope.
Celestia posted @ 18:41 - Link
Monday, 06 October 2014
Waiting. That is all I ever seem to do. I am waiting on a moment, waiting on an epiphany, waiting on a hope or waiting on a downfall. Or I am just waiting for something, anything to happen. Anything to change. Sometimes it is so tense, balanced on a razors edge between anticipation and dread. Other times it is like burying myself in a well of complete darkness, no sounds or sights, just time.
I am not even sure what I am waiting on truly, but I am sure I will know it when it happens. Maybe I will wake one turn and it will be there, it will hit me, and there will be no more waiting. But what then?
Celestia posted @ 17:22 - Link
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Friday, 03 October 2014
When your internal voice is screaming at you to be quiet, it is always a good strategy to listen. I have found that ignoring it tends to lead a person into devastation. I have stood in the face of devastation a time or two and I care not to take myself there again. Not for a half truth hidden in a riddle full of nothing at all. Is it so hard to understand? Have I lost something, perhaps the only thing, that could bring me anything approaching peace and joy?
Who stole the ability to trust from me? I need it back.
Celestia posted @ 23:48 - Link
Wednesday, 01 October 2014
Well, that brought home an ugly truth. Ugly but necessary. Sweep over it and carry on Cel, you were truly a fool not to see it before now anyway. A product of my own inflated ego, no doubt.
Still, there is more to life than my own folly, well perhaps. In truth, passing conversations with random people bring home that perhaps I need not be quite so focused on everything that is not, and a little more focused on anything that could be. A little war of flowers here, a little spark of something interesting there. Surely even a bee and a mountain goat can manage to find something worthwhile to do.
Perhaps there is hope yet.
Celestia posted @ 16:41 - Link
Monday, 29 September 2014
Ugh. Why do I do it to myself? There is nothing here. I keep waiting for something to click, for a reason, but there just isn't one and I am losing all hope for it.
Celestia posted @ 03:02 - Link
Wednesday, 24 September 2014
I am starting to feel it now. Slowly I grant, little by little. It seeps in just that little bit more each day, shades just another tiny piece of my soul to darkness. Am I not trying hard enough? Is it just me? How can a person be surrounded by smiling faces and warm words and still feel the growing ache of this crippling loneliness. It cannot just be me, can it? Is it? It colours all of my interactions with a taint. Like a monstrous claw it seizes all the parts of me that I might share, that might make a difference, make me feel like I am connecting with something, anything, and it cages them all in behind the bars of a warm smile and a flippant remark.
I don't want it there. Crawling through me, slow and menacing, consuming me until I am a shell once more, just the barricade and the smile. I want to share, to have the friendships that I know I am capable of somewhere, somehow. Maybe it is my passion I have lost, my passion for trying, caring, feeling. Feeling anything of depth at all. Maybe she is right and I should find it, coax it. Kindle it a little at a time. I need to do something with myself. Shout perhaps, scream, laugh, cry, argue, connect, be honest and free.
Perhaps it is me, perhaps I am afraid of looking in at the beast and finding it is me all along. Those two things, those two things that stain us all. Pride and fear.
Celestia posted @ 15:10 - Link
Tuesday, 23 September 2014
Time for a new plan of action. This one has already gotten old and tedious. In light of this I have begun an experiment of sorts, one that I feel is the only way I can move forward. I have to stop staring behind me and start looking around me. There is more to life than this and it is not going to come to me while I'm sat in these caves studying my boots! A little more trusting, a little less longing. A little more what I used to be and a little less what I have become. It cannot be that hard.
Celestia posted @ 17:59 - Link
Thursday, 18 September 2014
I like to think myself the master of avoiding all things difficult. I vanquish them with comedic puns, shroud them with fluffy words, or circumvent them with misdirection and equivocation. It seems to be my default reaction any time something catches me off guard. Make a joke, ease the tension. Change the subject and breeze right past it. Say as much as you can without actually saying anything at all. I'd like to say practically living in the spider caves has taken what little of my sanity was left to me, but I think I have been this way for a long time. Never say anything you can't brush off Cel, never say anything you can't take back.
I wasn't always like this, not always.
There was a time, long ago, when I was less jaded. When I was open and free, with my heart on my sleeve and no fluffy words to confuse and confound. No speeches to cushion things, nothing reused or regurgitated, no holding back. There was a time little book, in a dark cave in an awful place, where someone saw right through me. Where they tore into my very essence and picked apart all of the worst of my flaws. They showed them to me, one by one, flayed me with the awful reality of my darkest secrets until I was raw and beaten. Then they loved me anyway and still it was not enough.
It was the last time I can remember being fully and completely honest, nothing in reserve, nothing held back. Trapped in a corner with no shadows left to hide in. Between the scars I have been given and the ones I have created, avoiding the difficult things has become the safety net, lest I become nothing but wasted tissue.
And do these blue guardians actually drop any blue crystals at all?! Seriously, I am starting to think if I find one I will be so shocked I'll spend a marc on my knees mumbling my thanks and forget to pick it up!
Celestia posted @ 16:59 - Link
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Monday, 15 September 2014
It is not the same. Not for me anyway. One attracts me like a moth to a flame, the other is as merely a dream. When I find both in one, it will be the end of me.
Celestia posted @ 19:50 - Link
Friday, 12 September 2014
There it is again. Like a bad silver coin that bodes the worst of luck but seems to be the only thing keeping me from complete desolation. I think it has been my problem all along, in fact, I know it has and ever will it be.
I won't give it up and I won't let it go. I can't. It is my last bastion of defense. It walls me in as sure as it walls everything else out, but it will be the last thing I allow to be conquered. After everything else falls, everything else crumbles and withers and is stripped away layer by layer, it stands defiant still. It is a curse, a veil and a champion all in one. It is my salvation and my inevitable downfall. The tightrope I walk in order to survive.
What are you so afraid of? How do I answer that question without sounding a fool? Everything. I am afraid of everything. I am afraid of myself. Fear has shaped the stones of my wall. I have layered them high with it, bolstered their cracks and crevices a little at a time and polished them to such an impenetrable shine that not even I can see what truly lies behind it anymore.
Does that make me foolish? Yes. Does it make me alone? Eventually it always will. Do I loathe it? Oh, with an unabated passion. But I will keep my wall of pride, for it saves me.
Celestia posted @ 19:00 - Link
Thursday, 11 September 2014
Way to go Cel, way to go. Run your mouth, go ahead. Just let it keep going and going until you've worked yourself in circles and you are back where you started looking like an utter fool. Elegant, graceful, dignified even. Gods, sometimes I think I am so smart! I just cannot keep it shut.
Celestia posted @ 18:10 - Link
Why is it that even now, the truth is never really spoken aloud? It's alluded to, skirted around, implied and left open to interpretation. It's honey coated, glimpsed for a moment and abandoned, left hanging in the air like a giant bos that everyone can see but is pointedly ignoring. But the blunt and honest answers are the most difficult ones.
Sometimes they cannot be said and sometimes we do not want to know. We brush over them and carry on regardless. But there comes a point when it has to be done. When the hard words have to be spoken and the dice fall where they may. I understand I am a culprit for it, but I do so like to keep things simple, the way they are. I am always so afraid that things will change, that once spoken those things cannot be overcome or moved beyond.
It's not always the way though. Sometimes people can surprise you.
Celestia posted @ 08:38 - Link
Wednesday, 10 September 2014
I had forgotten how that felt. I thought it was as fresh in my mind as ever, but if nothing else I am ever surprised by my capacity for idiocy. I feel like I am repeating myself. Am I repeating myself? I am, I think. Nevertheless if nowhere else I am allowed that here. I am just going to hit things. Hit them and hit them and hit them until I find that thing that I wish for. And then, little book, then I will not remember how that felt.
Celestia posted @ 03:49 - Link
Tuesday, 09 September 2014
If you could have anything at all, what would it be? Love? Happiness? Peace? An infinite supply of candyballs on demand? Who knows, I am apt to think those answers differ for me each turn. If I were forced to choose though it I think it would be hope, I'd wish for hope. The others seem a little unattainable, well perhaps not the candyballs.
Peace is something so distant, requiring so many different variables to be present in order for it to be truly lasting. Peace within myself, though I have searched myself immeasurable times, is not something I can ever seem to earn. There are parts of me that no matter how I try to accept them, I cannot incorporate into a whole. Some people have it, some people find it in others. I cannot see it anywhere. But I hope.
Happiness. I grasp at it like each single moment is my last fleeting shot at survival, and should I not catch it, nurture it, all is lost. Happiness is only ever in the moments though and with the passing of each one comes the barren wasteland in which we strive for another. Another that will outlast the moments before. But I hope.
And love, ahh love. It has scoured my soul of all sureness. It has raked talons though my mind and left it sundered and faithless. Maimed and broken into splinters of what was and what could have been. It has seeped inside me slowly, intently, and it has burned through me and my better judgement in a flash so intense that I was blinded. It has obliterated my capacity for trust. But I hope.
Hope is my wish, for if I have it all else seems possible, imaginable.
And pirates, I wish for those also.
Celestia posted @ 18:08 - Link
Sunday, 07 September 2014
It isn't that I don't want to, because the longer I am here the more appealing the idea becomes and if I am really honest with myself little book, the more I need it. Commitment was never my strongest suit, shocking I know. But I at least managed it once or twice and if I am ever going to do it again, it's got to be for good. Of course that's assuming anyone will actually have me.
Then there is the whole debacle of putting yourself out there and letting someone else judge your worth. Rejection, also not one of my strong suits and I know I haven't exactly earned a whole lot of yeses anytime lately, or just anytime really. My pride is considerable yet hopelessly fragile.
Time to be a grown up. What an awful thought.
Celestia posted @ 12:13 - Link
Saturday, 06 September 2014
Well it's way past the point of a bad pirate joke in Kili inn now.
I'd give anything for a Trip Lancer right this moment
Celestia posted @ 18:20 - Link
I confess, I can be a little conceited. I know it and I accept it is a part of who I am. Maybe it makes me difficult. Ok there really isn't a maybe about that. It does make me difficult. Alright fine, I was more than a little conceited today, I was downright self important, but if I don't appreciate myself who will? Not enough of an excuse? No? Well probably not but I never said I was perfect.
Love. I've made my messes with it and that is pretty much all I have done. I have had it, squandered it, used it and wasted it many times over. A conversation with a friend brought home to me every reason why my messes happened. For one I am stubborn to the point where I will cut off my own nose to spite my face, and have done. But we age. The things we convinced ourselves were important when we were younger do not always seem quite so important anymore. At least that is what we tell ourselves. But I can't and I won't. There is no settling, there is no - this is most of what I want. It is about what people need in order to survive, live, thrive. Perhaps it is just me and it really probably is, but I would rather have moments where I am unequivocally alive, awake, aware, challenged and engaged, than a lifetime where I convince myself it is enough.
There have been times, people, that have been far more than I have deserved. If I were wiser and less flighty, less wrapped up in the moments and more focused on the reality, if I had been just that little bit less vain. Alas, I just could not settle. I am not perfect, I am not even close to normal, and I know I ask for more than I am worth but I will never just settle.
I need to thrive.
Celestia posted @ 02:53 - Link
Thursday, 04 September 2014
Well, I can see this going down like a pirate joke in Kilican inn. I've warned myself, so I won't be held responsible for anything bad. I've had a conversation with myself about it, and we are going to leave it at that and move on.
I have never been particularly spectacular at forming relationships with people, well at least not screwing it up anyway, and I have had my ups and downs with most of the people I am lucky enough to still call friend. When I say most I pretty much mean all of them, because at some point or other I have been exceptionally sucky and et voila, the downs. I should probably come with a warning. I am trying though, to be better and say the right things, meet new people and broaden my horizons. Shirila would probably have ridiculed me for today and I know Seragil will, but things are not what they were and I cannot be who I was without the sucky moments happening. So I have resisted the urge to roll my eyes, bitten down on my lip and so help me Gods, I am going to at least make an attempt to be a normal Valornian woman.
Maybe I will even start giggling.
Celestia posted @ 17:53 - Link
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Wednesday, 03 September 2014
Nothing has changed, I really am still an enormous pain in the bos but I like to think that it's part of my charm. At least this is what I am going to tell myself. Well that and role, location, threat, action. Back to the point. I am sure I have already laboured the point of how demanding I can be, I think everyone I have ever known can attest to that, and dealing with me can be a trying experience. Dealing with myself is a trying experience. I don't often ask for what I could not deliver in return though, mostly. Maybe I should try to be a little less me and a little more everyone else. Or at least what everyone else seems to have become.
We fight so that we may live, but when living becomes nothing but fighting, have we not already lost? We must remember to do a little living in between, at least I must or all that is alive and vibrant within me will surely wither away.
And doesn't anyone ever have a party anymore? Or a ball perhaps? Gods, I miss a good ball.
Celestia posted @ 18:32 - Link