jales
Well-known member
- Joined
- Apr 7, 2007
- Messages
- 1,178
- Reaction score
- 9
well since this section is for journals and so on about lonliness I decided to post a part of a story that I wrote. I posted before about it. It's part of a story that is more interesting than what I'm posting here... but this is the only part which is about lonliness. It's not supposed to be creative or anything it just happens to be set in another world.
The thread is called where is my cure for loneliness because in a lot of ways this character is me.. and that is what i'm thinking tonight. It should have been called 'longest post ever written' though..lol
okay..(i cant believe I'm posting this)
How do I write a story such as Ciane’s?
Ciane is the native Ashlandic term for calm. Asra, before the actual story-telling begins I would like to make it clear that the art of writing cannot be counted as one of my proficiencies. In fact where I live, and have lived for most of my life, writing neither exists nor has its concept ever seriously been considered. However I have not always live here, thus my customs extend far beyond this culture, and due to the circumstance amidst I have found myself writing you this tale.
Asra, it should also be noted that this story is being written purely because it needs to be told, and not as a consequence of my idleness or vain attempts at being expressive. Having understood this I trust that all parts of these scripts which prove to be incomprehensible due to the unrefined nature of my communication skills, with respect to this form of communication, will either be ignored, or reasoned with at your convenience.
Though life, in fact, is not nearly all that there is, when appealing to the consciousness of mankind it may seem to be of great importance. And so I will say that life and all that there is, is complicated. It’s not that it is something more complicated than your scope of understanding extends, it’s just that it is more complicated than you think it is. Its happenings are infinitely intricate and entirely unnecessary to explore.
The realm we are about to enter, Lementord, may seem at first to be very similar to your own realm. Like most things, when taking a closer look, you find that Lementord is in fact quite unique. And yet again like most things, when taking an even closer look, you should find that it is indeed the same as anywhere else. For in actuality it runs on the very same laws that your world, and everything within Utori, spins upon.
Lementord's physical-geography, to a great extent, affects the geographies of many other Utorian realms. This is because the people in association with the other forms of life there form part of the rubanacy of realms which create and control the energies of Utori. Rarely can it be admitted that mankind’s vanity is not entirely unfounded. So this instance, I must stress, is quite a rare moment in time. For the origin of modern-man symbolises the beginning the Lubas time period.
Throughout Lubas humans in Lementord have played an extremely important role in creating the energies of Utori. Humans there therefore differ faintly from other animals because their powers can extend to far greater limits. Lementord is the only energy-producing realm within our system though, and as consequence the humans of Lementord have magnificent powers, which throughout history have divided and united them in several wars.
At nineteen years old Ciane was in no way an above average female. I say this not really knowing in any great detail what an average female, or person for that matter, really is. Still it is apparent that at nineteen whatever average was; Ciane could not have exceeded it. She was of the Ashlandic race, and lived on the island of Suturi. Her days were mostly quite, and lined with a sadness that seemed to come from within.
In appearance Ciane was skinny and slightly taller than she would have liked to have been. Her skin was dark, unevenly toned, more hairy than even her brothers', and bore numerous unsightly scars; many of which arose from old pimples and of course past processions of wildness. The most unkempt of Ciane's features though, her head of hair, was undoubtedly her trademark.
Like all others of her race her hair was short, black, curly, and connoted the natural red highlights of her people. However, quite uniquely, Ciane's hair was never tamed, and always self-cut in patches so that its length held a poor sense of uniformity. This as well as her other, more minor, trademarks, which all seemed to be derived from apathy toward her appearance, often gave rise to questions resembling "how do you ever expect to attract a proper young man like that Ciane?".
To such comments Ciane only smiled. Long had passed her days of thinking she could attract a "proper" young man. In fact long had passed her days of thinking that they were any "proper" Ashlandic men left. She had lived, she had loved, and she had accepted that some hearts died lonely. And whether caused by of fear of the unknown or her knowledge of the world’s ability to be cruel; her heart appeared quite determined to be one such heart.
Asra, I know you may be thinking that this seems a likely introduction to a fairytale type story; for in times such as these those are all that your culture seems capable of producing. You are expecting Ciane to raise above all the negativity in her world, find passion in life, battle mystical beast, and eventually capture the heart of a handsome and humble prince. Unfortunately mystical beings don't exist, Ciane will often prove to be weaker than many, and handsome royalty, as few as they are, are found in even fewer numbers to ever be humble.
Asra, so what in all of Utori’s atmospheres is this story about if not ‘a happy-ending’? And why is it so long, and so on? I guess it’s so long because our lives, like everything else, are often more complex than we are willing to admit. And this story, quite incidentally, is about the life of a girl. A girl who often felt as though everything in the world moved too fast for her, and who spent a lot of her youth with tears itching to surface themselves.
She wasn’t poor or crippled or anything as sympathy provoking as that, she was just sad. But it makes no sense for me to sit here and describe to you a sadness that does not belong to my own being; you will read of her pain through her own words. It has always been a most mysterious occurrence to me that people write entire stories of others in such formats as ‘she said’ or ‘he said’. I suppose it’s because I am of the belief that one can only truly tell their own story. As expressed though, this case is different, for there is no one left to tell this story but me.
Asra, know though that when speak of Ciane, I speak of what I have seen in her with my own heart. I speak of the thoughts I have felt her have. I remember days of just listening to her mind. There were times when she would lay and wondered what it was that made us humans so very social. She wondered if it was natural the way she craved love and the awareness that she mattered, or whether her moments of self-pity was simply insatiable brat-like conduct which she allowed herself.
In Suturi, where she grew-up, family units, or clans, usually extended beyond the nuclear-family which you may be culturally familiar with. This was because Suturian families expanded through a male’s marriage, or union, to a daughter of any given ‘household’. It expanded in this way since it was customary for a male to join the clan of his wife once united. Because of this clans typically consisted of a minimal of twenty people.
Ciane’s clan had become, with the recent unions of her four brothers, one of the smaller Suturian clans. In it there were now twenty-three people. Despite its size though, it had always been an accolade to Suturi as Ciane’s father held an important position within Lementord’s Council of Leaders and controlled a large portion of Suturi’s most important lands. They were respected well and it seemed all but Ciane sported their clan-symbol, which resembled the letter ‘v’, with great pride.
It was not that Ciane did not love her family, but she did often wish not to carry their symbol. It is said in many tales of Ciane’s life that she felt unworthy of it. Maybe fears that by wearing it she was disgracing her family, because of the life which she led, disturbed her. The history of this life and Ciane’s sins began when she was just fifteen years old, and it is from this age which I have selected some of her writings to share with you.
Ciane and Shayle were both fifteen when this story begins, and up until then they had been inseparable. Until the age of nineteen, Shayle was the person within their clan who Ciane was closest to. Asra by the standard definitions used in your culture Ciane and Shayle were cousins, while to Suturians they were seen more as sisters. However I am sure that having witnesses these girls grow till age fifteen neither culture would have hesitated to brand them as best-friends.
Asra, since very few of their experiences took place independently at that age it was not unnatural that they met Yasol, the boy who Ciane grew to see as having divided them, while idling as a pair. The three met on what, at that time, was considered to be the most sacred day of their kind. Annually Ashlandic folk communicated with their ancestors. It was believed by Ashlandians that when a person of Ashlandic blood dies their spirits joined ‘the Ancestors’ who rule over either the Sun or the underworld.
The Sun, which was called Farisq by them, was thought of as the Ashlandic’s place in the Second realm of Lementord by most Ashlandians who lived in Suturi. Many other cultures in Lementord also perceived that that was where the Second realm of their people was. In fact all but the Gusustic and Rockind cultures thought it to be so. In Lementord there were five major races, and the cultures, and sub-cultures, of each had developed quite uniquely. The Gusustic race comprised of the people who had been linked to plant life, while Ashlandians were linked to ground-fire.
Often the annual Farisq Day which Ashlandians respected was scoffed at by the Gusustic kind, for both races believed themselves to have close ties to the Sun. The Gusustic people believed for centuries that the Sun had chosen them to be the leaders of Lementord. They argued that since they had been given the ability of producing the energy which supported plant-life and by extension all life; they were the most vital of Lementord’s offspring, and hence the most worthy of ruling.
Farisq Day was a peaceful day for the Ashlandians who celebrated. Ashlandic-folk prepared for it by finding ways of expressing their most pressing issues. In more ancient times Ashlandians used drawings, dances and other simple methods in order to send messages to their ancestors. These were no longer common though, for more recent times they almost all used a language-form entirely similar to that which I use now to communicate with you.
Some, more often those characters who were quite philosopher-like in nature, would spend their entire year preparing scripts to send on this day. It was believed that any request sent to the ancestors on this day would be answered before the calling of the following year’s Farisq day. Before sunrise Ashlandians would spread themselves across a large open field and wait with their messages to the ancestors; some were messages of gratitude, while others bore request.
Each person, who had reached the age of lighting, which was typically around age twelve, carried out this practice on their own. After sunrise they lit fires, using the Sun’s fire, as well their own. Stones, animal skins, root-end parchment and often collected gems were all used, just as humans of other realms had used them, as writing palettes. Some people liked to wait until midday to light their fires; this was not necessary though. The messages they carried were put into their fires, and burnt until either black in colour or disintegrated into ash.
It was believed that during these burnings the ancestors themselves would come to Lementord and receive the Ashlandic messages. Afterwards Ashlandians waited until the Sun set in meditation, connecting with their forefathers and enjoying the heat of the Sun against their skin. It’s difficult to explain what an emotional day this was for Ashlandians, especially the older Ashlandians. Most cried at sunset, and there were always those who could not contained themselves at all and shamelessly cried for the entire day.
The younger folk, such as Ciane and Shayle, were less often very emotional. Their appreciation for the ancestors was usually less since their problems were smaller and due to their limited experiences they had often received far less blessings. So on the Farisq day following Ciane’s fifteenth birthday the sisters made fire near the base of one of the few trees in Suturi’s open lands. I’m getting too much into the telling of her parts of this tale though. These are Ciane’s writings; as of now I will merely be guiding you through them.
Hello Baarosha! I’ve decided to give you that name since clearly I write to you as if you are a person. The only person in the world whose judgments upon my character I fear not, but a person all the same. Baarosha isn’t exactly Ashlandic but I think that it has a nice sound to it; and since your sole purpose in life is to ‘listen’ to my scribbling it makes sense that your name is liked, if by no one else, by me.
Today Suturi held our Farisq’s Day. I sent request that our ancestors inspire elder-Keiynah to invent some new soil mixes. It’s been years since she’s prepared anything new, and I could tell that I’m not the only one at home who’s not particularly a fan of the Lumad mix she enjoys making so often. I know they say you sometimes have to give the ancestors time, but if they don’t do anything about elder-Keiynah by YABEL I’m sure that I will be quite cross with them.
Although we have gotten well into the evening now, I still feel warm. It’s been strangely humid over the past few days, and I think that my lighting abilities are showing significant signs of strengthening. They say it’s hardest to light in humid weather and believe me when I say they weren’t lying. Lighting takes much more energy from me in this weather than it does during cooler times. My learning is also going well and I’ve been thinking about how I’d like to serve Utori when I get older.
Peace-keeping within the house hold seems to interest me greatly. I know that I’m only fifteen but I can’t wait to one day start a family, and studying peace-keeping would probably make it much easier for me to find a mate. But more than that I think I’d enjoy learning about human interactions and understanding conflict. My father says that I’ve got plenty of time to figure things like that out though. He also keeps saying that I’m too serious for my age.
I’m not really serious though, it’s just that there doesn’t really seem to be anything better to do than dream about my future. Like today for example, after sending our messages to the ancestors, Shayle and I met a boy and we all spoke for quite some time, but after he left there was nothing much to do. Shayle started sorting through some soil and the both of us plainly sat waiting; speaking to each other from time to time about the members of the various clans which were present at the grounds today.
And even with mimicking her soil sorting myself, my mind quickly began to wander. At first I started thinking about what the lands beyond Suturi looked like. I’ve heard unbelievable tales about them, and I was thinking about how amazing it would be to actually see them. I can’t really picture any land being more beautiful than Suturi is though. No one ever talks about the simple things like the way butterflies sometimes line the edges of tall grasses that that allow the wind the make waves upon their surfaces so that they resemble seas of Lementord.
That’s what I was wondering today; if the butterflies looked differently in these lands, and whether there were any butterflies at all. Gosh, I’m remembering the grounds we held Farisq’s day at today. You should have been there if only to see the grounds; they are amazing. And although Farisq day is really more of an adult thing I have to admit that the celebrations are a most interesting time for our people. That’s the thing about living in a place like Suturi, after awhile the people all become so familiar.
You get to know people without ever having spoken to them simply by the characteristic things that they do. It’s nice on a day like today to see them all gather together and to just observe, even learn a little more about them. Like take Gusnaba for example, his writings to the ancestors looked like the longest books that have ever been written. It was almost painful to see him burn them. But it sort of explains why he always seems so busy, yet is never in much company. He probably spends the bulk of his time throughout the year preparing his writings for Farisq Day.
And Maritala, I’m almost certain that her soil mixtures are the best in all of our land; and if you looked at the writings she offers they are almost always smothered in dirt and written on thickly patched root-end parchments. Thinking about it now maybe I should have been more specific and asked the ancestors for elder-Keiynah to become as creative with soil mixtures as Maritala is. Something tells me that not even the ancestors can make something that drastic happen though. Next year I really must put more thought into what I ask the ancestors.
Although they haven’t exactly taken to the habit of granting me anything I wish for, out of respect for them I should think about the questions I send to them a bit more before I light them. I have a sneaking suspicion that Shayle may have asked the ancestors to let her find love today, and I think she may have found just that at the very grounds where our lighting of words was held. The boy we met today was entirely taken with Shayle. If I’d been smarter I would have asked for the same thing; I suppose now I’ll have to wait till next year.
His name is Yasol, and he lives further inland than we do. I’m not really sure of much else about him though. His clan seems to know ours very well, but since mostly every clan in Suturi knows our clan that’s not saying much. He was also very handsome in my opinion; his skin was dark and smooth all over, and his build sturdy and quite uniformed. He and Shayle have arranged to meet again, so you’ll probably be hearing more about this Yasol soon enough in any case. You’ll most likely be hearing ‘she can’t stop saying “Yasol said this, do you think Yasol would…?”’
They’ve just met though, so it’s hard to tell, but I know that Shayle does seem pretty excited about their upcoming meeting. And she can have mostly any guy she chooses, so if he keeps her interested he is hers. Most of our clan left the grounds later than everyone else did today. We didn’t leave really very late or anything; we only stayed about one hours and thirty-five minutes after the sunset really, but it seemed longer than that at the time. The sunset was really beautiful though; because of the openness the grounds offered we were able to see the entire sun dipping into the horizon.
It was fluorescent orange in color and quite large. I can’t ever remember seeing the sun as fluorescent as it was today, but my memory isn’t usually the best so I guess I’m not saying much. I do however remember looking at the clouds as the sun was setting today; they all seemed to be lightly dyed. Colors from purple to pink and of course orange and blue washed over them; it was beautiful indeed. It’s funny how a simple sunset could make you understand why so many Lementordians seek to praise the sun.
Today has been a joyful day. Many of the older folk left the grounds with tears of joy filling their eyes. Our clan is still celebrating; feasting and chatting in our burrow’s central area. Marsolo is being quite funny tonight. He keeps lighting his fire without notice and talking to himself saying things like ‘Utori take them away; take the voices away’. And although they aren’t saying anything I think a few of the elders are afraid he is going to reach edges sometime soon.
The elders keep saying that more and more people have been battling the edges in current times. My personal suspicions are that Marsolo’s simply been intoxicated by one fruit or the other tonight. However I am only fifteen, so if the elders are worried maybe I should be as well. Our night is not over as yet though, and someone will soon miss me from our clan’s final celebrations of Farisq. Before that happens I must go join them now.
Asra, when she speaks of the edges, Ciane speaks of reaching a state similar to insanity. The following entries into Ciane’s journal took place later during that same year.
This morning elder-Vindras taught us how to make parchments from root-ends. She says it’s very important that we can make them well, not only to make writing palettes but also because colder times are predicted to come upon our lands, and in these times they will be able to serve as skin coverings. It was a lot of fun making them, although mine did not stay together very well. I can’t wait to try it again though; elder-Vindras says that it takes time to master.
Right now I’m waiting on Shayle; she’s getting ready to meet Yasol out at the shores in less than an hour. As usual Shayle and I have told the elders that we are going out to the shores to sightsee for awhile. It feels as though I’ve been waiting on her for the entire day. She’s painting mahindi dyes on her body in traditional Ashlandic patterns. She says that our clan’s symbol is also supposed to go on her stomach. I would help her but she always complains that I’m not doing it well whenever I try, and today is important for her so she wishes to do it on her own.
She says that today is important because Yasol and she have been meeting at the shores for exactly one month now. And even though I understand that today is important I do wish that she would hurry up and get ready, it’s not as though she has that much to do. She’s pretty without any of that dye, and she knows this as well. Besides which, Yasol seems to already be in love, and he’s not the type who cares about dyes. I’m realizing just how impatient I am. It’s funny though because I don’t even want to go to the shores, yet I’m still upset that she is taking very so long!
In a little while I suppose I’ll end-up at that place in the cliff-like mount which I’ve been finding myself at. Being alone for so many hours can get boring but I must admit that there is a noteworthy amount of fun that comes with being able to observe people from there. I’m also almost certain that no one can see me there unless they are particularly searching for someone. That kind of makes it interesting as well.
Observing the differences in people seems to be one of the few things that I think is capable of holding my interest without fail. So many cultures adorn the shores on a daily basis; some cover parts of their bodies while others don’t. All speaking in their own tongue, all having unique attitudes. The best part of being at the shores is the music though. I choose that sitting niche mostly for the music. I think I get just about the best acoustics and view of the musicians that the shore-lands have to offer from there.
Besides this trip to the shores I suspect my day will be quite boring. My father’s still in Elemturi working. He’s been working a lot more than usual lately. They say that some of the effects of the interconnection-shel are now beginning to show up pretty fiercely in both realms. Though I’m not exactly sure what it all means in actuality, I know that for him it means he now has a lot more work to do than usual. Elder-Vindra explained the effects of the interconnection-shel as the humans in the Lementordian and Earth realms becoming unbalanced.
She says that most people are now less connected to their own paras than we were intended to be since we are now able to connect with other people besides our paras. She’s always saying that she knew all along that deviating from our nature would cause problems. Although most saw the interconnection-shel as a good thing at the time, she says that it has resulted in a lot of additional pain for humans. People now have to deal with loss via death of someone they were once connected to. We also now tend to no longer develop as meaningful relationships with our paras as we did in times past.
She keeps saying that she knew that the shel would not be in balance with our nature. She named a lot of other things that ‘she knew’ as well, but I can’t seem to remember them all. And besides Shayle is finally ready; the only good thing about my day today is that I’ll probably get hear that boy who I’ve been telling you about sing. His voice is really beautiful. And the lyrics of the songs he sings always make me think. Those words make me want to experience love in a way I’m not sure really exist. All his words make me think though, not just about love, also about life and how none of us is really alone because we all experience such similar things.
________________________________________
He spoke to me today! My heart’s still moving. I know you don’t believe me, I don’t even fully believe myself as yet; but he really did speak to me. He said he’s seen me observing them before and that I’m cute! Cute?! Bam! Boom! Gazam! Gazam I say! What is Gazam?! Oh-la-la-la-la-la! He even is better looking close-up. But it’s not just that he is good-looking, it’s a sort of shyness that he has about him. It seems like he’s a bit unsure of himself although he doesn’t have a reason in all of Utori to be. His name is……..Rivan! I can’t believe he spoke to me.
He was more or less calm and so on, so I doubt that he planned it out. Okay, so really I was just sitting in my usual spot watching them sing, they finished up kind of early and I knew that it wasn’t nearly time to meet Shayle as yet so I didn’t get up like I usually did whenever they finished singing. I know you are thinking ‘hurry up and get to the good stuff’; I’m getting there. So somehow he looked directly towards my direction while packing their instrumentals away and then he greeted me with a shaky, sort of ‘almost’ hand motion.
At first I didn’t think it was me he was greeting, but the only thing behind me was rock, and there were no other people or animals for that matter anywhere near to me. I still can’t believe what happened today, it was like something out of my imagination; it was that good! When I returned a greeting to him he used his hands to signal to me that he wanted me to wait where I was. And wait is exactly what I did. Half-confused, half-excited; I waited. It was so cute (I love that word now…cute!) watching Rivan climb up the trail to where I was sitting. Climbing that trail for the first time is difficult for anyone though.
At one point he almost fell and I could tell he felt a little embarrassed. He didn’t need to though, I was more nervous that he could ever have been. We didn’t really get to talk for long though, but he did walk with me for most of the way back to meet Shayle. I didn’t want him to meet Shayle just yet so I told him that I was supposed to meet her at a point a little way off from our actual meeting point, at the HUzzi. He was a little reluctant about leaving me but I assured him that I would be fine on my own and so he left. Just as he was leaving though he said that he would be looking forward to seeing me again.
Also he’s not from Suturi, he’s from Dunmor but claims to know little of the clan he is related to by blood. So I’ll call him Rivan of Dunmor. Rivan of Dunmor; cute Rivan of Dunmor who thinks Ciane of Xawhao is also cute! Maybe anyway, he could be lying. Either way he spoke to me today! And at least now I know his name. Okay I’m going to stop making myself sound like a five year old who has seen a boy for the first time. Not that they really know the difference at five, so I guess that’s not saying much there.
Still I’m going to stop, and say goodnight now. For the first time ever I can’t wait till Shayle and Yasol have to meet again though.
________________________________________
I’ve just counted and five months have passed since Rivan and I began seeing each other, and just over seven since Shayle and Yasol began. I met with Rivan again three days ago; we kissed a lot and played with each other’s bodies as we spoke of our feelings for each other. He says that he’s never quite felt the way he feels towards me about any other. He has not said that he loves me though. However he did sort of ask me if I was in love with him!
Love! I’m wondering what it is right now. I mean everyone has a different definition. I know. I know you’re thinking that I’m probably too young to be in love; but I think that I may very well be in love. I mean, if only you met him. He’s different, he sort of understands me. I’m not quite in love though; he asked me today what I felt for him. He said that if I loved him that I should tell him. He told me not to be afraid to tell him because he would never take advantage of that.
All his questions have got me thinking about this love stuff. I mean how can I know if I’m in love if I’m not sure what love is? You know I’ve started listening to people and songs more, and it seems that people see love in so many different ways. Some people think that love takes time, that it’s something that can only be experienced when you truly know another person. Other people say that they fell in love the moment that they first saw the person who they love.
I’ve heard love be described as something that helps a relationship get through any kind of trial, while I know that some people believe that you can love someone but not allow them to hurt you beyond a certain extent. It seems that love is so different to everyone; it’s something like belief in that respect. In fact I think that is the best way to describe love; it’s something like a state of being; it’s whatever you make it.
Maybe that is what makes it so great. I mean we are thought that the mind is a powerful thing, they always warn us to be careful about what we believe. The elders say a person’s beliefs can carry their spirit like nothing else can. Maybe love is such a mystical yet real and powerful thing because it is simple a belief. By this account I guess that I am in love with Rivan if I believe myself to be in love with him.
So the question now is; will I allow myself to believe that I am in love with Rivan of Dunmore? And I guess the answer would be; he has made me happy for so many months, so why not?!
________________________________________
Baarosha; he is gone. He has left me. I do not know why. I am not sure of what it is I have done or if he is well but I am sure that he is gone. I have not written for weeks because I have been mostly consumed by this loss. During the month before he left we spent most of our time together. I’ve asked everyone that I could think to ask. He is gone. We have lit together. And so his fire burns within me still, but that is all I will ever have of him; his lingering memory and that.
I feel as though I have lost a part of me that I can never get back. I know that I have lost a part of me, and I’m certain it is not only because they say that it is something to give your virtue to another; though this does have its part to play. I picture a part of my spirit as always being with him, lingering at his side, watching him and crying every time he lights with another female. I did not expect this of him. The words he said to me shaped his character as belonging to someone very different to that which this action portrays.
Lately all I have been doing is crying. In every quiet moment I get I cry, and even in the not so quiet moments the tears still come. Never, in all of my imagination did I expected this many tears. I feel ugly all the time. Like my very skin has been stained by my sins. I’ve been going to the lake more often these days. Partly because it gives me time alone and partly because I always feel so dirty and bathing helps though only for a short while. I’ve also been going because his presence created space in my life that was not there before; and now that he is gone there seems to be no easy way of filling the time.
I feel as though my sinning means that I will now never be loved. In fact I’m sure that I will never be loved, because I am simply too weak. It feels as though I’ve failed the person who I was meant to wait upon. I gave away what I was meant to offer to another man. I know that I should have been stronger, and I should have known. I didn’t fight enough, or express my doubts concerning us lighting well enough. I did fight though, I did say that I thought we weren’t ready to go there, but his will was stronger; so much stronger than mine. The tears won’t stop. It’s been five weeks now and they simply won’t stop. I’m surprised that I am able to write at all in this state.
It feels as though when you’ve cried as much as this you know things you shouldn’t. You know that there is no end to how many tears your body will shed, and that there is point after crying for hours when your face begins to hurt. You know that your chest burns just around your heart-area for days after a bad night, and that the moon’s light is one of the most precious sights through tears.
Rivan of Dunmor is gone. How I will learn to live with that, I’m not quite sure yet.
Asra, the only term used which may have been used in an unfamiliar context to you was the term ‘light’ which refers, in the Suturian culture, both to visible light and to the act of sexual intercourse. When Ciane spoke of lighting with Rivan she spoke of her first sexual experience. In Suturian culture, and many other cultures of Ashlandic dominance during this time, lighting was viewed as an extremely sacred act as it was from lighting that life, and thus everything which was known to man, came.
She refers to her actions as sins because, although no eternal condemnation awaited her, lighting before being united with a new clan and spouse was considered to be an extremely shameful act for a female. During the years that follow Ciane continues lighting; her following experiences being attempts to salvage her sanity by building new memories that would replace the memories of Rivan.
The following posts were taken from entries made when Ciane was sixteen and seventeen years old. And I deeply apologize if the first of these entries selected is more graphic than you are now expecting it to be. It should be noted that although I have carried out all translations myself, it is very difficult to communicate what she intended without exposing you to graphic imagery and sometimes graphic words.
Again I visited the lighting gardens to find yet another lighting partner. It’s becoming somewhat like an addiction, and right now I’m almost certain that it’s the only thing that’s keeping me alive. It’s like I spend my days craving both a connection to another and numbness to the world around me; and lighting, though sinful, gives me both. I know you think that my will is very weak; and it is. It’s because it almost feels pointless to have a will in this life. There seems to be no sense in fighting Utori, because I cannot win even if I try.
I spent the entire afternoon today lighting with Adahary. He is the fifth of my partners, but the first following Rivan who appears to be interested in me outside of light. I was fearful when he first expressed his interest, and still am to a certain extent, but I’ve decided not to walk away from my fears. I still feel that he cannot truly ever love someone like me, and that I myself have become almost incapable of loving others. Yet there is a part of me which was curious enough to make me return to the gardens today.
I can still feel the high that this afternoon’s light brought me. His scent still hovers over my skin. I’m sleepy, almost ready to sleep and for once my thoughts are not filled with betrayal and hopelessness. I’m thinking of the way our bodies joined together today. His kisses were immaculate as was the friction between our skins. I can still feel the way his hands held onto my waistline as he entered me. My body was positioned so that my elbows and knees both joined to the ground throughout most of our act, his lower abdomen pressing against my ass.
I remember picturing the head of his erection moving against the inner walls of my vagina while my face moved closer and closer to the grass below us. The scent of our body-sweats mixed with that of soil and grass was beautifully familiar. So smooth and yielding it felt as he moved into and out of me; and then further in again. My body weakened just before the rushes came over me. They felt like every particle within me was accelerating in speed. And I think they had because I can still feel them trying to slow down now. They are slowing down as I write this; reminding me of what Adahary and I did today. Reminding me of how erect he had gotten when I kissed his nipples.
I know these things are wrong. I know that I risk hurting Adahary when he finds out that I am incapable of giving my heart to another. I will stop using him to plaster my pain soon. I will. But until then I shall sleep. Tonight I will have happy dreams. Tomorrow I may regret my shameful actions, but tonight my mind will revel in the ecstasy that today has brought me.
________________________________________
I am now convinced that the hardest trial that the heart can live through is being responsible for throwing away its own happiness. For three months you gave me happiness Utori. I never expected it to come in that form; I never even expected it to come. There I was thinking that I could not love again, while I was in love. I was simply too blind to take notice of my own emotions. Utori I must thank you though, for Adahary was in one word, goodness.
For once you gave me everything that I could have ever wanted, but then you tricked me into throwing it all away. I hurt the only person who may have ever loved me, and I threw away the one thing that I feel as though I’ve been searching the ends of the Lementord and back for. I feel sick about what I have done, and doubt that this sickness can ever completely leave my being. And worst of all I believe that I knew what I had before I threw it away. Utori why do you test me so? And why do I fail? I guess this means that it was not yet my time.
Before today I thought that it was painful to be rejected, I thought it was suffering when a person was left by someone they had given their heart to. I was wrong, for you never know true pain until you have experienced its depth; and this pain seems the worst of them all. It doesn’t only stab and linger like the others. It spends its days mocking me, laughing at how foolish I am. I miss him with all that I am. How do you lose a love as great as what we had though? Maybe it wasn’t that great to begin with. If it was, then he’d still be here; they say a love strong enough can overcome all things that it meets.
I’ve tried everything to redeem the words spoken to him; he has moved on though. And so should I for it is said that one should never want for those who don’t in turn want them. I’ve thought about going back to the lighting grounds, but I cannot. It seems that I have now lost all interest in lighting. The very thought of bodies combining now seems to sicken my stomach. And furthermore I cannot picture lighting with anyone but him. Neither past lovers nor new one’s spark my interest. I have to stop thinking of such sadness though. He is gone from my life, yet another person has walked away from me while I stand wishing that they didn’t.
There is nothing left to do but move on. And as difficult as that may be; I must at least try.
________________________________________
It seems that everywhere I turn I meet pain. On one hand I am willing enough to admit that this is entirely my fault though. I know that I allow others to hurt me, and that I allow myself to be one of the weaker products of my kind. But sometimes I think that if I were strong I would never hurt the weak in the ways that men have hurt me. I feel so empty right now. It’s ironic how I still crave for love, when it seems that all my life love has done little but bring me pain.
Most pain you forget. But the pain of the heart you only forget slightly; never completely. And it’s the part of me which remembers my past that seems to destroy everything new that I try to create. I’m so afraid of everything now. It’s like I’m no longer a whole person. Again this night meets me crying; tears are so warm when they flow in abundance. Tonight I feel broken, as though I cry for the part of me which is missing. There is an emptiness that defines me. And I cannot sleep, there is simply too much on my mind tonight.
More and more I find that I am distancing myself from Shayel and the others. With this depression it is difficult to focus on my studying. In fact it’s difficult to focus on anything but the pain itself. It’s amazing how no one can see my pain though. I’m sure that everyone we study with must think that I am fine. It makes me wonder who else feels like this. Maybe that other person and I would be friends if we ever knew each other’s pain. Maybe we could comfort each other when things get overbearing.
Life is no longer so simple though, the elders tell us that we should turn to our paras during heavy trials, but I think that they don’t really understand how different Earth and Lementord are now. In their times things were much simpler. It seems everything was simpler in their time; maybe I just think this in order to comfort myself though. My para seems pretty occupied in her own world though, and her culture is completely different she could never understand what I’m going though; I’m not sure anyone will really ever be able to understand.
We’ve been learning so much about the past and other cultures in our studies. I hope that one day I will be able to visit the places which we are learning about. Suturi seems so different from all those places. In Suturi the major race is Ashlandic. Gaussians also make up a large portion of our population. I’ve always heard of Wilonians but I’ve never seen one. However I have seen people of both Aquarian and Rockind descent who live in Suturi. We learnt today about the different beliefs which Ashlandian people have.
It was really interesting. Elder-Vindras said that some Ashlandians even believe that our race is the fore-fathering race of all Lemetorians, and that we arose from fallen ashes. We all respect ashes and that an Ashlandians must leave this realm in the form of ashes; but the idea that our origin lies in ashes is a bit absurd to me. Honestly speaking, even though elder-Vindras is an excellent teacher, I’d be lying severely if I didn’t admit that she is very biased when it comes to belief. It’s sort of humorous to observe her trying to hide her bias though.
She would say things like ‘As you’ll know the majority of Ashlandians think that our origin realm is within the sun, while the realm after this life can be found beneath the Lementorian surface. Here in Suturi though we see, what I will soon show you is based on logical deductions, that the very opposite is far more likely to be the case.’ And then add the words ‘Keep in mind that for these teachings each belief, no matter how strange, should be explored objectively.’ Sometimes I think that it’s absolutely amazing how much there is to learn. And with the passing of time we only add more to our banks of knowledge. It’s a beautiful thing to see how we all contribute to knowledge and culture and so on.
Today after our studies I found myself wishing that I lived in another land. I wished that I lived in the lands of the Rochand. When we learning of their family life we learnt that they saw commitment as the only important thing between spouses. The women and men there were not expected to be faithful to each other in an intimate fashion. And if a woman became pregnant regardless of who she lit with to attain this state, the child was taken care of by herself and the person whom she was committed to. There were other things which I liked about their culture as well; simple things.
The thing is though my interest in studies has gotten decreased lately. Maybe some weren’t meant to contribute to our banks of knowledge as much as others. It seems that lately the wrong things have been consuming my mind. Thoughts that depress me slow everything down. I spend so much time just wishing to escape it all and find a safe place. I know that I should be studying. I know that I should join Shayle whenever she invites me to study with her and her friends instead of making excuses. I’m constantly surprised that she believes me when I say that I prefer to study alone, or that I’m going to the lake to draw…
Life though; it’s the strangest thing there is. I’m pretty sure it was meant to be seen through the eyes of humor, but that gets tough at times. I was crying when I began writing tonight; I can still feel the cool stains of tears upon my cheeks, but the tears have stopped flowing. I suppose that means I should use this time to do something productive. Hadunus (Goodnight).
________________________________________
I’m crying, and crying right now and I know that there must be others in my position. I don’t know how to explain everything or anything at all. I wouldn’t even know who to explain it to. They say if you try at something and don’t succeed you must try at it again; until you succeed. Well that’s ashpen! I’m so very fed up of socializing; of trying. I know that you are thinking that I haven’t really tried that much; but lately I have tried! And everywhere I turn I find that people aren’t worth it.
I hate people! I hate myself, and I hate everything. I hate you for rejecting me and I hate myself because I can’t figure out why you rejected me. Because I’m too weak to just be like everyone else. Because all I do is cry and feel pain. PAIN there’s so much pain. And not everyone feels this. Don’t ******* tell me everyone feels this. Because this right here. This pain is enough to kill.
It’s enough to make anyone slit their wrist in impatience; because it’s clear that this much pain will kill you if only you sit still and wait. And I can’t explain it. No; I don’t know where it came from or if it’ll ever end. I don’t have a solution and I can’t even look at my own reflection anymore. I like darkness because I’m afraid that someone will see that I’m always crying. I say I’m fine because I don’t have a way of explaining this. And I’m so afraid to try and explain this.
I used to think that I couldn’t be alone; that life had to have some justice and that in the end everyone must feel the same amount of pain. Now I know that I was very wrong. Not everyone could live like this, and in fact I’m pretty sure that it’s very few of us who are cursed enough to know this much pain. I know they aren’t this unhappy because I was them once; I was happy once. Those times are over for me though.
I could stay in this burrow for the entire day and cry…and please don’t tell me this is not real. Don’t ******* tell me that I’m being dramatic or looking for sympathy; because I’m not. I just don’t know what else to do. I don’t have a way of releasing this pain I don’t have anyone who cares, and of the people who can care there’s no one for me to let in. I don’t know how to let anyone into this much pain, and I know that letting someone in will only serve to cause me more pain.
I don’t know who I am anymore; I was someone who loved life once. I was someone who loved myself and others, now I’m just someone who harbors pain. Now I’m tired. I’m weak. I cry for things that don’t matter because there are so many tears inside me and there’s no way out because I am part of the problem. I am part of what I hate in people. I am just as self-centered as any other ******* out there and I don’t know what to do but cry. Shut out the light, call on my ancestors and hope that no one hears me cry. I’m trying…
I’m trying to let someone in. But every time I try I get hurt and it seems no one else feels like this. I know what you’re thinking; that I have to learn to laugh at life. Maybe not take things so seriously…just relax, just relax. I’m trying. Believe me, I’m trying. Can you imagine being this alone among so many people? And the more alone you feel the harder it gets to be social at all. The less social you are the easier you become to hurt, the more unstable you are as a person. Or maybe it’s all in my head. Maybe boredom has made me dramatic.
Please don’t tell me that I’m just being dramatic. And worse; don’t tell me that you feel sorry for me and that you’d like to let me know everything will be alright because you don’t give a dam about me. I don’t know how it works in your world. I don’t know how you feel. I don’t know who or what gets you by, but I know here tonight, now; I am alone. You can’t help me and you have no idea how I feel.
These words you read are just words to you while to me they are tears, stifled tears, tears that are still inside of me and parts of the tears that I shed right now. Right now I hate you. I hate you for laughing with your friends, for starting a family, for having someone to love you… for doing everything that normal people do…yes you. I hate you.
Or maybe I just hate myself, and the fact that I can’t really hate you…
________________________________________
I feel it becoming a permanent part of me. This depression. I spend so much time trying to keep afloat. I want to cry but I seem to have reached a dry point. There is no one to hear me screaming. I want to cry but I won’t, soon I will go patch my pain in the world of connection. Writing doesn’t even help tonight. My mind just keeps questioning my past. It keeps wondering if those I think of still remember me. Only distractions can help me; distractions from this pain and hope; that relentless hope that someday I will again experience peace.
I do hate this life; this dry emotionless life sentence of time. Time. It seems amazing the amount of time I waste each day in trying to keep myself from slipping into depression. It’s like this sadness’ entire purpose in life is to haunt me. In every quiet second, sadness haunts my mind. It brings the bits and pieces of negatives in my life to light. My guilt, my fears, my losses; they all surface at once. At this moment all I can see is a darkness following me, it’s directly behind me and the only way to get rid of it is to distract my mind so that the corners of my eyes cannot indulge it.
It hates to be ignored you see, but do not be tricked into believing that this sadness is something easy to ignore. It isn’t, it takes everything within me to ignore this sadness, but sometimes everything you have is worth it. Maybe I’m just crazy though. At times I feel so crazy, crazy and close to the edges. I’m never quite sure whether my mind is overcrowded or under crowded at these times. I know right now most of all I feel scared.
I’m so afraid that nothing will work out in my life. And again this life seems two folded; for I fear that no one will ever see my pain on one hand, and on the other I fear that I will one day reach a point where everyone sees my pain. In this second fear I see insanity consuming me and causing me to become the talked about Jaleyne who simply tripped under life’s pressures. Every time I see a ‘mad-one’ I think of how easily that could one day be me.
What is this love that I seek so? Why is it that I need someone so much more than everyone else does? Why does my soul crave a connection while the souls of others seem so content? Am I so different that no one will ever see me Utori? And why? Why am I so different? Why does no one else feel with my intensity or think about the things that I do? Will I ever find this thing that I seek Utori? Or will I ever be okay without it?
This depression I carry with me tonight seems determined to say with me. It will not let me sleep. I suppose this is its cruel sense of humor. I wasted much of my day today. I keep wondering how others keep afloat; this question usually makes me feel like a child sitting in some lonely crevice staring out at the world. It’s like I’m sitting still there while everyone else just lives their lives. No one else is bothered by these questions, and no one else seems to be haunted by my darkness.
I end up wondering where it is that they find the energy; the strength to be so productive with their lives! There is so much that I can do, and I see this as well, but I am so drained by my depression. And there is no one looking into my crevice. And yes; I still miss him. In fact I still miss everything about him, so many months have passed now and I can still remember his scent. So much time, yet still I have not accepted that I am no longer his. I’m tired of crying though, and I’m even more tired of blaming myself.
Yet there is no one else to blame. It was by my hand that he left; by my foolish and young-hearted mistakes. But Utori you cannot play innocent for you did trick me, you did lead me to believe that I could not love. I simply did not wish to hurt him, and by the time I saw my mistake it was too late. Tell me why is it that you test us so? And why does failing your test bring such pain into our lives? I pray that this pain has meaning. It is all I ask, that out of all this pain you bring me some light; someone who can be the reason that it never worked out with the others.
For now though, bless my mind with as much sanity as you can spare, and keep it away from the edges. Let it focus on things other than my losses and my pain. And Utori find me a lover so that once more I can have a home within the arms of another. Give me this home one more time and I will never falter again. Let that someone be capable of seeing my pain, and let me be capable of seeing his truth. I know that I ask for a lot, and in reality I do not expect that I should be granted it. Still I write these requests, so that they can leave my heart. They may not leave my heart forever, but in seeking peace tonight… I must write.
I must warn that my requests are not to be answered because no other needs to see the pain I harbor and no man deserves the curse of being my partner. As much as it hurts for me to accept it, solitude, which will continue to drive my mind near to the edges, is my fate. Another lover will only put me closer to the edges, and I fear that I am too close as it is to risk this. All I can do is hope that one day I find meaning in the pain this life has brought me.
________________________________________
More dryness. A sort of stiff dryness that is so resilient to depth; to deep pain. Of all the questions in the world today I ask if this dryness is good or bad. Do you know what it feels like when you want to cry but you just can’t? That is what I mean by dryness. It’s almost as though you are dead. All I can do is think about all the things that usually make me cry and hope that some tears surface. Without tears you begin to wonder if you are still human. I don’t know how to explain what it’s like. I feel like someone who has been scared too much.
It’s hard to believe that I’m still dealing with the realization that everyone I meet leaves me. I’ve been completely alone for almost a year now and my scares have not healed. I don’t know how to heal because I spend so much time simply trying to find ways of hiding this pain I carry. And I’m not even sure why I’m hiding it. It sometimes feels as though they can see through me. I don’t think they do though. I wonder who the people that love songs are written about are. I keep wondering where everyone else gets the strength to continue living from.
I don’t know if I have any tears left. I don’t know if I have anything left. Everything seems so empty. I can’t even find anything beautiful in myself anymore, and it feels like I’ve tried everything. I’m pretty sure I have tried everything. I loathe this life and I’m tired of depending on my clan. I know that that sounds crazy but I just feel so worthless compared to them. I feel unworthy of being a part of them. I want to be free of the Xawhao title. I can’t explain what I want, I’m not even sure that I know.
I do hate this life though. I hate getting up on a morning; I hate the fact that I can do nothing all day long and get away with it. I hate the fact that everyone else does things with their lives. There is so much to do in this world, so much to learn, yet I sit in the darkness and sulk. And I don’t know what else to do with this silence but write through it. It’s scary the way silence can hurt. It can feel like the air around you is just waiting to squash you and all you can think is ‘hurry-up’.
I know others suffer as well, but no one seems to suffer like this. The sickest part is that there is no solution to this pain. It’s a thing you learn in life early on if you are paying attention; there are no permanent solutions to anything in life. Like my hair, I can fix it in any fashion that I want to, I’d always find that at some point I’d have to fix it over. Being happy is something like that. You can’t just do one thing and become happy, you have to make the things that make you happy a part of your life and do those things every day.
It hurts not having any more tears, I feel dry like Utori has given up on me finally. I feel as though Utori has taken away its way of letting me cleanse. Why did they all leave me? What am I missing that those other girls have? Why do I fall for the lies that I am told? Utori maybe it is not this life that I hate, maybe it is my own self that I need to hate. Everyone else seems to make it through just fine. Everyone else is able to learn, build structures and add to Lementord’s beauty. Everyone besides me.
I know I must always sound like I’m complaining, like I think that life owes me something. I know you don’t owe me anything Utori, but please just show me what I’m doing wrong. I’d change. I’d change in a heartbeat if you just showed me what I’m missing. Just tell me what I did wrong. Tell me who I’ve hurt, what injustice I have committed. I’d change if only you’d show me how. I’m scared. I’m scared of how deep my sadness can run. I’m afraid of all the people in Lementord who can’t see how much pain I’ve been through and who will hurt me further.
I’m so afraid that all my days to come will all be lived in this silence. Because I know that I can’t fix this. I can’t help but be this person. I hate life. It sends me such misfortune, such pain, such suffering, such silence. I wonder if anyone will ever see into my heart. I’m so afraid to truly let anyone in, because I can no longer even stand to think about the person that I truly am. It would be nice if someone saw though, if someone could see and just accept. If they could know that I never meant to be this person.
I’ve changed so much from the girl I once was. I didn’t even see myself changing, but change is a difficult thing to entirely miss because it hurts to change. I must not talk of pain any longer though. I must not allow myself to feel with such depth. There is no one that sees me and loves me, and I don’t think anyone really can. I miss my childhood. I miss ignorance, clarity and peace. I wish death would come upon me. Lementord is a place of many mysteries. Death seems beautiful though, I hope that death finds me soon. Very soon.
________________________________________
The thread is called where is my cure for loneliness because in a lot of ways this character is me.. and that is what i'm thinking tonight. It should have been called 'longest post ever written' though..lol
okay..(i cant believe I'm posting this)
How do I write a story such as Ciane’s?
Ciane is the native Ashlandic term for calm. Asra, before the actual story-telling begins I would like to make it clear that the art of writing cannot be counted as one of my proficiencies. In fact where I live, and have lived for most of my life, writing neither exists nor has its concept ever seriously been considered. However I have not always live here, thus my customs extend far beyond this culture, and due to the circumstance amidst I have found myself writing you this tale.
Asra, it should also be noted that this story is being written purely because it needs to be told, and not as a consequence of my idleness or vain attempts at being expressive. Having understood this I trust that all parts of these scripts which prove to be incomprehensible due to the unrefined nature of my communication skills, with respect to this form of communication, will either be ignored, or reasoned with at your convenience.
Though life, in fact, is not nearly all that there is, when appealing to the consciousness of mankind it may seem to be of great importance. And so I will say that life and all that there is, is complicated. It’s not that it is something more complicated than your scope of understanding extends, it’s just that it is more complicated than you think it is. Its happenings are infinitely intricate and entirely unnecessary to explore.
The realm we are about to enter, Lementord, may seem at first to be very similar to your own realm. Like most things, when taking a closer look, you find that Lementord is in fact quite unique. And yet again like most things, when taking an even closer look, you should find that it is indeed the same as anywhere else. For in actuality it runs on the very same laws that your world, and everything within Utori, spins upon.
Lementord's physical-geography, to a great extent, affects the geographies of many other Utorian realms. This is because the people in association with the other forms of life there form part of the rubanacy of realms which create and control the energies of Utori. Rarely can it be admitted that mankind’s vanity is not entirely unfounded. So this instance, I must stress, is quite a rare moment in time. For the origin of modern-man symbolises the beginning the Lubas time period.
Throughout Lubas humans in Lementord have played an extremely important role in creating the energies of Utori. Humans there therefore differ faintly from other animals because their powers can extend to far greater limits. Lementord is the only energy-producing realm within our system though, and as consequence the humans of Lementord have magnificent powers, which throughout history have divided and united them in several wars.
At nineteen years old Ciane was in no way an above average female. I say this not really knowing in any great detail what an average female, or person for that matter, really is. Still it is apparent that at nineteen whatever average was; Ciane could not have exceeded it. She was of the Ashlandic race, and lived on the island of Suturi. Her days were mostly quite, and lined with a sadness that seemed to come from within.
In appearance Ciane was skinny and slightly taller than she would have liked to have been. Her skin was dark, unevenly toned, more hairy than even her brothers', and bore numerous unsightly scars; many of which arose from old pimples and of course past processions of wildness. The most unkempt of Ciane's features though, her head of hair, was undoubtedly her trademark.
Like all others of her race her hair was short, black, curly, and connoted the natural red highlights of her people. However, quite uniquely, Ciane's hair was never tamed, and always self-cut in patches so that its length held a poor sense of uniformity. This as well as her other, more minor, trademarks, which all seemed to be derived from apathy toward her appearance, often gave rise to questions resembling "how do you ever expect to attract a proper young man like that Ciane?".
To such comments Ciane only smiled. Long had passed her days of thinking she could attract a "proper" young man. In fact long had passed her days of thinking that they were any "proper" Ashlandic men left. She had lived, she had loved, and she had accepted that some hearts died lonely. And whether caused by of fear of the unknown or her knowledge of the world’s ability to be cruel; her heart appeared quite determined to be one such heart.
Asra, I know you may be thinking that this seems a likely introduction to a fairytale type story; for in times such as these those are all that your culture seems capable of producing. You are expecting Ciane to raise above all the negativity in her world, find passion in life, battle mystical beast, and eventually capture the heart of a handsome and humble prince. Unfortunately mystical beings don't exist, Ciane will often prove to be weaker than many, and handsome royalty, as few as they are, are found in even fewer numbers to ever be humble.
Asra, so what in all of Utori’s atmospheres is this story about if not ‘a happy-ending’? And why is it so long, and so on? I guess it’s so long because our lives, like everything else, are often more complex than we are willing to admit. And this story, quite incidentally, is about the life of a girl. A girl who often felt as though everything in the world moved too fast for her, and who spent a lot of her youth with tears itching to surface themselves.
She wasn’t poor or crippled or anything as sympathy provoking as that, she was just sad. But it makes no sense for me to sit here and describe to you a sadness that does not belong to my own being; you will read of her pain through her own words. It has always been a most mysterious occurrence to me that people write entire stories of others in such formats as ‘she said’ or ‘he said’. I suppose it’s because I am of the belief that one can only truly tell their own story. As expressed though, this case is different, for there is no one left to tell this story but me.
Asra, know though that when speak of Ciane, I speak of what I have seen in her with my own heart. I speak of the thoughts I have felt her have. I remember days of just listening to her mind. There were times when she would lay and wondered what it was that made us humans so very social. She wondered if it was natural the way she craved love and the awareness that she mattered, or whether her moments of self-pity was simply insatiable brat-like conduct which she allowed herself.
In Suturi, where she grew-up, family units, or clans, usually extended beyond the nuclear-family which you may be culturally familiar with. This was because Suturian families expanded through a male’s marriage, or union, to a daughter of any given ‘household’. It expanded in this way since it was customary for a male to join the clan of his wife once united. Because of this clans typically consisted of a minimal of twenty people.
Ciane’s clan had become, with the recent unions of her four brothers, one of the smaller Suturian clans. In it there were now twenty-three people. Despite its size though, it had always been an accolade to Suturi as Ciane’s father held an important position within Lementord’s Council of Leaders and controlled a large portion of Suturi’s most important lands. They were respected well and it seemed all but Ciane sported their clan-symbol, which resembled the letter ‘v’, with great pride.
It was not that Ciane did not love her family, but she did often wish not to carry their symbol. It is said in many tales of Ciane’s life that she felt unworthy of it. Maybe fears that by wearing it she was disgracing her family, because of the life which she led, disturbed her. The history of this life and Ciane’s sins began when she was just fifteen years old, and it is from this age which I have selected some of her writings to share with you.
Ciane and Shayle were both fifteen when this story begins, and up until then they had been inseparable. Until the age of nineteen, Shayle was the person within their clan who Ciane was closest to. Asra by the standard definitions used in your culture Ciane and Shayle were cousins, while to Suturians they were seen more as sisters. However I am sure that having witnesses these girls grow till age fifteen neither culture would have hesitated to brand them as best-friends.
Asra, since very few of their experiences took place independently at that age it was not unnatural that they met Yasol, the boy who Ciane grew to see as having divided them, while idling as a pair. The three met on what, at that time, was considered to be the most sacred day of their kind. Annually Ashlandic folk communicated with their ancestors. It was believed by Ashlandians that when a person of Ashlandic blood dies their spirits joined ‘the Ancestors’ who rule over either the Sun or the underworld.
The Sun, which was called Farisq by them, was thought of as the Ashlandic’s place in the Second realm of Lementord by most Ashlandians who lived in Suturi. Many other cultures in Lementord also perceived that that was where the Second realm of their people was. In fact all but the Gusustic and Rockind cultures thought it to be so. In Lementord there were five major races, and the cultures, and sub-cultures, of each had developed quite uniquely. The Gusustic race comprised of the people who had been linked to plant life, while Ashlandians were linked to ground-fire.
Often the annual Farisq Day which Ashlandians respected was scoffed at by the Gusustic kind, for both races believed themselves to have close ties to the Sun. The Gusustic people believed for centuries that the Sun had chosen them to be the leaders of Lementord. They argued that since they had been given the ability of producing the energy which supported plant-life and by extension all life; they were the most vital of Lementord’s offspring, and hence the most worthy of ruling.
Farisq Day was a peaceful day for the Ashlandians who celebrated. Ashlandic-folk prepared for it by finding ways of expressing their most pressing issues. In more ancient times Ashlandians used drawings, dances and other simple methods in order to send messages to their ancestors. These were no longer common though, for more recent times they almost all used a language-form entirely similar to that which I use now to communicate with you.
Some, more often those characters who were quite philosopher-like in nature, would spend their entire year preparing scripts to send on this day. It was believed that any request sent to the ancestors on this day would be answered before the calling of the following year’s Farisq day. Before sunrise Ashlandians would spread themselves across a large open field and wait with their messages to the ancestors; some were messages of gratitude, while others bore request.
Each person, who had reached the age of lighting, which was typically around age twelve, carried out this practice on their own. After sunrise they lit fires, using the Sun’s fire, as well their own. Stones, animal skins, root-end parchment and often collected gems were all used, just as humans of other realms had used them, as writing palettes. Some people liked to wait until midday to light their fires; this was not necessary though. The messages they carried were put into their fires, and burnt until either black in colour or disintegrated into ash.
It was believed that during these burnings the ancestors themselves would come to Lementord and receive the Ashlandic messages. Afterwards Ashlandians waited until the Sun set in meditation, connecting with their forefathers and enjoying the heat of the Sun against their skin. It’s difficult to explain what an emotional day this was for Ashlandians, especially the older Ashlandians. Most cried at sunset, and there were always those who could not contained themselves at all and shamelessly cried for the entire day.
The younger folk, such as Ciane and Shayle, were less often very emotional. Their appreciation for the ancestors was usually less since their problems were smaller and due to their limited experiences they had often received far less blessings. So on the Farisq day following Ciane’s fifteenth birthday the sisters made fire near the base of one of the few trees in Suturi’s open lands. I’m getting too much into the telling of her parts of this tale though. These are Ciane’s writings; as of now I will merely be guiding you through them.
Hello Baarosha! I’ve decided to give you that name since clearly I write to you as if you are a person. The only person in the world whose judgments upon my character I fear not, but a person all the same. Baarosha isn’t exactly Ashlandic but I think that it has a nice sound to it; and since your sole purpose in life is to ‘listen’ to my scribbling it makes sense that your name is liked, if by no one else, by me.
Today Suturi held our Farisq’s Day. I sent request that our ancestors inspire elder-Keiynah to invent some new soil mixes. It’s been years since she’s prepared anything new, and I could tell that I’m not the only one at home who’s not particularly a fan of the Lumad mix she enjoys making so often. I know they say you sometimes have to give the ancestors time, but if they don’t do anything about elder-Keiynah by YABEL I’m sure that I will be quite cross with them.
Although we have gotten well into the evening now, I still feel warm. It’s been strangely humid over the past few days, and I think that my lighting abilities are showing significant signs of strengthening. They say it’s hardest to light in humid weather and believe me when I say they weren’t lying. Lighting takes much more energy from me in this weather than it does during cooler times. My learning is also going well and I’ve been thinking about how I’d like to serve Utori when I get older.
Peace-keeping within the house hold seems to interest me greatly. I know that I’m only fifteen but I can’t wait to one day start a family, and studying peace-keeping would probably make it much easier for me to find a mate. But more than that I think I’d enjoy learning about human interactions and understanding conflict. My father says that I’ve got plenty of time to figure things like that out though. He also keeps saying that I’m too serious for my age.
I’m not really serious though, it’s just that there doesn’t really seem to be anything better to do than dream about my future. Like today for example, after sending our messages to the ancestors, Shayle and I met a boy and we all spoke for quite some time, but after he left there was nothing much to do. Shayle started sorting through some soil and the both of us plainly sat waiting; speaking to each other from time to time about the members of the various clans which were present at the grounds today.
And even with mimicking her soil sorting myself, my mind quickly began to wander. At first I started thinking about what the lands beyond Suturi looked like. I’ve heard unbelievable tales about them, and I was thinking about how amazing it would be to actually see them. I can’t really picture any land being more beautiful than Suturi is though. No one ever talks about the simple things like the way butterflies sometimes line the edges of tall grasses that that allow the wind the make waves upon their surfaces so that they resemble seas of Lementord.
That’s what I was wondering today; if the butterflies looked differently in these lands, and whether there were any butterflies at all. Gosh, I’m remembering the grounds we held Farisq’s day at today. You should have been there if only to see the grounds; they are amazing. And although Farisq day is really more of an adult thing I have to admit that the celebrations are a most interesting time for our people. That’s the thing about living in a place like Suturi, after awhile the people all become so familiar.
You get to know people without ever having spoken to them simply by the characteristic things that they do. It’s nice on a day like today to see them all gather together and to just observe, even learn a little more about them. Like take Gusnaba for example, his writings to the ancestors looked like the longest books that have ever been written. It was almost painful to see him burn them. But it sort of explains why he always seems so busy, yet is never in much company. He probably spends the bulk of his time throughout the year preparing his writings for Farisq Day.
And Maritala, I’m almost certain that her soil mixtures are the best in all of our land; and if you looked at the writings she offers they are almost always smothered in dirt and written on thickly patched root-end parchments. Thinking about it now maybe I should have been more specific and asked the ancestors for elder-Keiynah to become as creative with soil mixtures as Maritala is. Something tells me that not even the ancestors can make something that drastic happen though. Next year I really must put more thought into what I ask the ancestors.
Although they haven’t exactly taken to the habit of granting me anything I wish for, out of respect for them I should think about the questions I send to them a bit more before I light them. I have a sneaking suspicion that Shayle may have asked the ancestors to let her find love today, and I think she may have found just that at the very grounds where our lighting of words was held. The boy we met today was entirely taken with Shayle. If I’d been smarter I would have asked for the same thing; I suppose now I’ll have to wait till next year.
His name is Yasol, and he lives further inland than we do. I’m not really sure of much else about him though. His clan seems to know ours very well, but since mostly every clan in Suturi knows our clan that’s not saying much. He was also very handsome in my opinion; his skin was dark and smooth all over, and his build sturdy and quite uniformed. He and Shayle have arranged to meet again, so you’ll probably be hearing more about this Yasol soon enough in any case. You’ll most likely be hearing ‘she can’t stop saying “Yasol said this, do you think Yasol would…?”’
They’ve just met though, so it’s hard to tell, but I know that Shayle does seem pretty excited about their upcoming meeting. And she can have mostly any guy she chooses, so if he keeps her interested he is hers. Most of our clan left the grounds later than everyone else did today. We didn’t leave really very late or anything; we only stayed about one hours and thirty-five minutes after the sunset really, but it seemed longer than that at the time. The sunset was really beautiful though; because of the openness the grounds offered we were able to see the entire sun dipping into the horizon.
It was fluorescent orange in color and quite large. I can’t ever remember seeing the sun as fluorescent as it was today, but my memory isn’t usually the best so I guess I’m not saying much. I do however remember looking at the clouds as the sun was setting today; they all seemed to be lightly dyed. Colors from purple to pink and of course orange and blue washed over them; it was beautiful indeed. It’s funny how a simple sunset could make you understand why so many Lementordians seek to praise the sun.
Today has been a joyful day. Many of the older folk left the grounds with tears of joy filling their eyes. Our clan is still celebrating; feasting and chatting in our burrow’s central area. Marsolo is being quite funny tonight. He keeps lighting his fire without notice and talking to himself saying things like ‘Utori take them away; take the voices away’. And although they aren’t saying anything I think a few of the elders are afraid he is going to reach edges sometime soon.
The elders keep saying that more and more people have been battling the edges in current times. My personal suspicions are that Marsolo’s simply been intoxicated by one fruit or the other tonight. However I am only fifteen, so if the elders are worried maybe I should be as well. Our night is not over as yet though, and someone will soon miss me from our clan’s final celebrations of Farisq. Before that happens I must go join them now.
Asra, when she speaks of the edges, Ciane speaks of reaching a state similar to insanity. The following entries into Ciane’s journal took place later during that same year.
This morning elder-Vindras taught us how to make parchments from root-ends. She says it’s very important that we can make them well, not only to make writing palettes but also because colder times are predicted to come upon our lands, and in these times they will be able to serve as skin coverings. It was a lot of fun making them, although mine did not stay together very well. I can’t wait to try it again though; elder-Vindras says that it takes time to master.
Right now I’m waiting on Shayle; she’s getting ready to meet Yasol out at the shores in less than an hour. As usual Shayle and I have told the elders that we are going out to the shores to sightsee for awhile. It feels as though I’ve been waiting on her for the entire day. She’s painting mahindi dyes on her body in traditional Ashlandic patterns. She says that our clan’s symbol is also supposed to go on her stomach. I would help her but she always complains that I’m not doing it well whenever I try, and today is important for her so she wishes to do it on her own.
She says that today is important because Yasol and she have been meeting at the shores for exactly one month now. And even though I understand that today is important I do wish that she would hurry up and get ready, it’s not as though she has that much to do. She’s pretty without any of that dye, and she knows this as well. Besides which, Yasol seems to already be in love, and he’s not the type who cares about dyes. I’m realizing just how impatient I am. It’s funny though because I don’t even want to go to the shores, yet I’m still upset that she is taking very so long!
In a little while I suppose I’ll end-up at that place in the cliff-like mount which I’ve been finding myself at. Being alone for so many hours can get boring but I must admit that there is a noteworthy amount of fun that comes with being able to observe people from there. I’m also almost certain that no one can see me there unless they are particularly searching for someone. That kind of makes it interesting as well.
Observing the differences in people seems to be one of the few things that I think is capable of holding my interest without fail. So many cultures adorn the shores on a daily basis; some cover parts of their bodies while others don’t. All speaking in their own tongue, all having unique attitudes. The best part of being at the shores is the music though. I choose that sitting niche mostly for the music. I think I get just about the best acoustics and view of the musicians that the shore-lands have to offer from there.
Besides this trip to the shores I suspect my day will be quite boring. My father’s still in Elemturi working. He’s been working a lot more than usual lately. They say that some of the effects of the interconnection-shel are now beginning to show up pretty fiercely in both realms. Though I’m not exactly sure what it all means in actuality, I know that for him it means he now has a lot more work to do than usual. Elder-Vindra explained the effects of the interconnection-shel as the humans in the Lementordian and Earth realms becoming unbalanced.
She says that most people are now less connected to their own paras than we were intended to be since we are now able to connect with other people besides our paras. She’s always saying that she knew all along that deviating from our nature would cause problems. Although most saw the interconnection-shel as a good thing at the time, she says that it has resulted in a lot of additional pain for humans. People now have to deal with loss via death of someone they were once connected to. We also now tend to no longer develop as meaningful relationships with our paras as we did in times past.
She keeps saying that she knew that the shel would not be in balance with our nature. She named a lot of other things that ‘she knew’ as well, but I can’t seem to remember them all. And besides Shayle is finally ready; the only good thing about my day today is that I’ll probably get hear that boy who I’ve been telling you about sing. His voice is really beautiful. And the lyrics of the songs he sings always make me think. Those words make me want to experience love in a way I’m not sure really exist. All his words make me think though, not just about love, also about life and how none of us is really alone because we all experience such similar things.
________________________________________
He spoke to me today! My heart’s still moving. I know you don’t believe me, I don’t even fully believe myself as yet; but he really did speak to me. He said he’s seen me observing them before and that I’m cute! Cute?! Bam! Boom! Gazam! Gazam I say! What is Gazam?! Oh-la-la-la-la-la! He even is better looking close-up. But it’s not just that he is good-looking, it’s a sort of shyness that he has about him. It seems like he’s a bit unsure of himself although he doesn’t have a reason in all of Utori to be. His name is……..Rivan! I can’t believe he spoke to me.
He was more or less calm and so on, so I doubt that he planned it out. Okay, so really I was just sitting in my usual spot watching them sing, they finished up kind of early and I knew that it wasn’t nearly time to meet Shayle as yet so I didn’t get up like I usually did whenever they finished singing. I know you are thinking ‘hurry up and get to the good stuff’; I’m getting there. So somehow he looked directly towards my direction while packing their instrumentals away and then he greeted me with a shaky, sort of ‘almost’ hand motion.
At first I didn’t think it was me he was greeting, but the only thing behind me was rock, and there were no other people or animals for that matter anywhere near to me. I still can’t believe what happened today, it was like something out of my imagination; it was that good! When I returned a greeting to him he used his hands to signal to me that he wanted me to wait where I was. And wait is exactly what I did. Half-confused, half-excited; I waited. It was so cute (I love that word now…cute!) watching Rivan climb up the trail to where I was sitting. Climbing that trail for the first time is difficult for anyone though.
At one point he almost fell and I could tell he felt a little embarrassed. He didn’t need to though, I was more nervous that he could ever have been. We didn’t really get to talk for long though, but he did walk with me for most of the way back to meet Shayle. I didn’t want him to meet Shayle just yet so I told him that I was supposed to meet her at a point a little way off from our actual meeting point, at the HUzzi. He was a little reluctant about leaving me but I assured him that I would be fine on my own and so he left. Just as he was leaving though he said that he would be looking forward to seeing me again.
Also he’s not from Suturi, he’s from Dunmor but claims to know little of the clan he is related to by blood. So I’ll call him Rivan of Dunmor. Rivan of Dunmor; cute Rivan of Dunmor who thinks Ciane of Xawhao is also cute! Maybe anyway, he could be lying. Either way he spoke to me today! And at least now I know his name. Okay I’m going to stop making myself sound like a five year old who has seen a boy for the first time. Not that they really know the difference at five, so I guess that’s not saying much there.
Still I’m going to stop, and say goodnight now. For the first time ever I can’t wait till Shayle and Yasol have to meet again though.
________________________________________
I’ve just counted and five months have passed since Rivan and I began seeing each other, and just over seven since Shayle and Yasol began. I met with Rivan again three days ago; we kissed a lot and played with each other’s bodies as we spoke of our feelings for each other. He says that he’s never quite felt the way he feels towards me about any other. He has not said that he loves me though. However he did sort of ask me if I was in love with him!
Love! I’m wondering what it is right now. I mean everyone has a different definition. I know. I know you’re thinking that I’m probably too young to be in love; but I think that I may very well be in love. I mean, if only you met him. He’s different, he sort of understands me. I’m not quite in love though; he asked me today what I felt for him. He said that if I loved him that I should tell him. He told me not to be afraid to tell him because he would never take advantage of that.
All his questions have got me thinking about this love stuff. I mean how can I know if I’m in love if I’m not sure what love is? You know I’ve started listening to people and songs more, and it seems that people see love in so many different ways. Some people think that love takes time, that it’s something that can only be experienced when you truly know another person. Other people say that they fell in love the moment that they first saw the person who they love.
I’ve heard love be described as something that helps a relationship get through any kind of trial, while I know that some people believe that you can love someone but not allow them to hurt you beyond a certain extent. It seems that love is so different to everyone; it’s something like belief in that respect. In fact I think that is the best way to describe love; it’s something like a state of being; it’s whatever you make it.
Maybe that is what makes it so great. I mean we are thought that the mind is a powerful thing, they always warn us to be careful about what we believe. The elders say a person’s beliefs can carry their spirit like nothing else can. Maybe love is such a mystical yet real and powerful thing because it is simple a belief. By this account I guess that I am in love with Rivan if I believe myself to be in love with him.
So the question now is; will I allow myself to believe that I am in love with Rivan of Dunmore? And I guess the answer would be; he has made me happy for so many months, so why not?!
________________________________________
Baarosha; he is gone. He has left me. I do not know why. I am not sure of what it is I have done or if he is well but I am sure that he is gone. I have not written for weeks because I have been mostly consumed by this loss. During the month before he left we spent most of our time together. I’ve asked everyone that I could think to ask. He is gone. We have lit together. And so his fire burns within me still, but that is all I will ever have of him; his lingering memory and that.
I feel as though I have lost a part of me that I can never get back. I know that I have lost a part of me, and I’m certain it is not only because they say that it is something to give your virtue to another; though this does have its part to play. I picture a part of my spirit as always being with him, lingering at his side, watching him and crying every time he lights with another female. I did not expect this of him. The words he said to me shaped his character as belonging to someone very different to that which this action portrays.
Lately all I have been doing is crying. In every quiet moment I get I cry, and even in the not so quiet moments the tears still come. Never, in all of my imagination did I expected this many tears. I feel ugly all the time. Like my very skin has been stained by my sins. I’ve been going to the lake more often these days. Partly because it gives me time alone and partly because I always feel so dirty and bathing helps though only for a short while. I’ve also been going because his presence created space in my life that was not there before; and now that he is gone there seems to be no easy way of filling the time.
I feel as though my sinning means that I will now never be loved. In fact I’m sure that I will never be loved, because I am simply too weak. It feels as though I’ve failed the person who I was meant to wait upon. I gave away what I was meant to offer to another man. I know that I should have been stronger, and I should have known. I didn’t fight enough, or express my doubts concerning us lighting well enough. I did fight though, I did say that I thought we weren’t ready to go there, but his will was stronger; so much stronger than mine. The tears won’t stop. It’s been five weeks now and they simply won’t stop. I’m surprised that I am able to write at all in this state.
It feels as though when you’ve cried as much as this you know things you shouldn’t. You know that there is no end to how many tears your body will shed, and that there is point after crying for hours when your face begins to hurt. You know that your chest burns just around your heart-area for days after a bad night, and that the moon’s light is one of the most precious sights through tears.
Rivan of Dunmor is gone. How I will learn to live with that, I’m not quite sure yet.
Asra, the only term used which may have been used in an unfamiliar context to you was the term ‘light’ which refers, in the Suturian culture, both to visible light and to the act of sexual intercourse. When Ciane spoke of lighting with Rivan she spoke of her first sexual experience. In Suturian culture, and many other cultures of Ashlandic dominance during this time, lighting was viewed as an extremely sacred act as it was from lighting that life, and thus everything which was known to man, came.
She refers to her actions as sins because, although no eternal condemnation awaited her, lighting before being united with a new clan and spouse was considered to be an extremely shameful act for a female. During the years that follow Ciane continues lighting; her following experiences being attempts to salvage her sanity by building new memories that would replace the memories of Rivan.
The following posts were taken from entries made when Ciane was sixteen and seventeen years old. And I deeply apologize if the first of these entries selected is more graphic than you are now expecting it to be. It should be noted that although I have carried out all translations myself, it is very difficult to communicate what she intended without exposing you to graphic imagery and sometimes graphic words.
Again I visited the lighting gardens to find yet another lighting partner. It’s becoming somewhat like an addiction, and right now I’m almost certain that it’s the only thing that’s keeping me alive. It’s like I spend my days craving both a connection to another and numbness to the world around me; and lighting, though sinful, gives me both. I know you think that my will is very weak; and it is. It’s because it almost feels pointless to have a will in this life. There seems to be no sense in fighting Utori, because I cannot win even if I try.
I spent the entire afternoon today lighting with Adahary. He is the fifth of my partners, but the first following Rivan who appears to be interested in me outside of light. I was fearful when he first expressed his interest, and still am to a certain extent, but I’ve decided not to walk away from my fears. I still feel that he cannot truly ever love someone like me, and that I myself have become almost incapable of loving others. Yet there is a part of me which was curious enough to make me return to the gardens today.
I can still feel the high that this afternoon’s light brought me. His scent still hovers over my skin. I’m sleepy, almost ready to sleep and for once my thoughts are not filled with betrayal and hopelessness. I’m thinking of the way our bodies joined together today. His kisses were immaculate as was the friction between our skins. I can still feel the way his hands held onto my waistline as he entered me. My body was positioned so that my elbows and knees both joined to the ground throughout most of our act, his lower abdomen pressing against my ass.
I remember picturing the head of his erection moving against the inner walls of my vagina while my face moved closer and closer to the grass below us. The scent of our body-sweats mixed with that of soil and grass was beautifully familiar. So smooth and yielding it felt as he moved into and out of me; and then further in again. My body weakened just before the rushes came over me. They felt like every particle within me was accelerating in speed. And I think they had because I can still feel them trying to slow down now. They are slowing down as I write this; reminding me of what Adahary and I did today. Reminding me of how erect he had gotten when I kissed his nipples.
I know these things are wrong. I know that I risk hurting Adahary when he finds out that I am incapable of giving my heart to another. I will stop using him to plaster my pain soon. I will. But until then I shall sleep. Tonight I will have happy dreams. Tomorrow I may regret my shameful actions, but tonight my mind will revel in the ecstasy that today has brought me.
________________________________________
I am now convinced that the hardest trial that the heart can live through is being responsible for throwing away its own happiness. For three months you gave me happiness Utori. I never expected it to come in that form; I never even expected it to come. There I was thinking that I could not love again, while I was in love. I was simply too blind to take notice of my own emotions. Utori I must thank you though, for Adahary was in one word, goodness.
For once you gave me everything that I could have ever wanted, but then you tricked me into throwing it all away. I hurt the only person who may have ever loved me, and I threw away the one thing that I feel as though I’ve been searching the ends of the Lementord and back for. I feel sick about what I have done, and doubt that this sickness can ever completely leave my being. And worst of all I believe that I knew what I had before I threw it away. Utori why do you test me so? And why do I fail? I guess this means that it was not yet my time.
Before today I thought that it was painful to be rejected, I thought it was suffering when a person was left by someone they had given their heart to. I was wrong, for you never know true pain until you have experienced its depth; and this pain seems the worst of them all. It doesn’t only stab and linger like the others. It spends its days mocking me, laughing at how foolish I am. I miss him with all that I am. How do you lose a love as great as what we had though? Maybe it wasn’t that great to begin with. If it was, then he’d still be here; they say a love strong enough can overcome all things that it meets.
I’ve tried everything to redeem the words spoken to him; he has moved on though. And so should I for it is said that one should never want for those who don’t in turn want them. I’ve thought about going back to the lighting grounds, but I cannot. It seems that I have now lost all interest in lighting. The very thought of bodies combining now seems to sicken my stomach. And furthermore I cannot picture lighting with anyone but him. Neither past lovers nor new one’s spark my interest. I have to stop thinking of such sadness though. He is gone from my life, yet another person has walked away from me while I stand wishing that they didn’t.
There is nothing left to do but move on. And as difficult as that may be; I must at least try.
________________________________________
It seems that everywhere I turn I meet pain. On one hand I am willing enough to admit that this is entirely my fault though. I know that I allow others to hurt me, and that I allow myself to be one of the weaker products of my kind. But sometimes I think that if I were strong I would never hurt the weak in the ways that men have hurt me. I feel so empty right now. It’s ironic how I still crave for love, when it seems that all my life love has done little but bring me pain.
Most pain you forget. But the pain of the heart you only forget slightly; never completely. And it’s the part of me which remembers my past that seems to destroy everything new that I try to create. I’m so afraid of everything now. It’s like I’m no longer a whole person. Again this night meets me crying; tears are so warm when they flow in abundance. Tonight I feel broken, as though I cry for the part of me which is missing. There is an emptiness that defines me. And I cannot sleep, there is simply too much on my mind tonight.
More and more I find that I am distancing myself from Shayel and the others. With this depression it is difficult to focus on my studying. In fact it’s difficult to focus on anything but the pain itself. It’s amazing how no one can see my pain though. I’m sure that everyone we study with must think that I am fine. It makes me wonder who else feels like this. Maybe that other person and I would be friends if we ever knew each other’s pain. Maybe we could comfort each other when things get overbearing.
Life is no longer so simple though, the elders tell us that we should turn to our paras during heavy trials, but I think that they don’t really understand how different Earth and Lementord are now. In their times things were much simpler. It seems everything was simpler in their time; maybe I just think this in order to comfort myself though. My para seems pretty occupied in her own world though, and her culture is completely different she could never understand what I’m going though; I’m not sure anyone will really ever be able to understand.
We’ve been learning so much about the past and other cultures in our studies. I hope that one day I will be able to visit the places which we are learning about. Suturi seems so different from all those places. In Suturi the major race is Ashlandic. Gaussians also make up a large portion of our population. I’ve always heard of Wilonians but I’ve never seen one. However I have seen people of both Aquarian and Rockind descent who live in Suturi. We learnt today about the different beliefs which Ashlandian people have.
It was really interesting. Elder-Vindras said that some Ashlandians even believe that our race is the fore-fathering race of all Lemetorians, and that we arose from fallen ashes. We all respect ashes and that an Ashlandians must leave this realm in the form of ashes; but the idea that our origin lies in ashes is a bit absurd to me. Honestly speaking, even though elder-Vindras is an excellent teacher, I’d be lying severely if I didn’t admit that she is very biased when it comes to belief. It’s sort of humorous to observe her trying to hide her bias though.
She would say things like ‘As you’ll know the majority of Ashlandians think that our origin realm is within the sun, while the realm after this life can be found beneath the Lementorian surface. Here in Suturi though we see, what I will soon show you is based on logical deductions, that the very opposite is far more likely to be the case.’ And then add the words ‘Keep in mind that for these teachings each belief, no matter how strange, should be explored objectively.’ Sometimes I think that it’s absolutely amazing how much there is to learn. And with the passing of time we only add more to our banks of knowledge. It’s a beautiful thing to see how we all contribute to knowledge and culture and so on.
Today after our studies I found myself wishing that I lived in another land. I wished that I lived in the lands of the Rochand. When we learning of their family life we learnt that they saw commitment as the only important thing between spouses. The women and men there were not expected to be faithful to each other in an intimate fashion. And if a woman became pregnant regardless of who she lit with to attain this state, the child was taken care of by herself and the person whom she was committed to. There were other things which I liked about their culture as well; simple things.
The thing is though my interest in studies has gotten decreased lately. Maybe some weren’t meant to contribute to our banks of knowledge as much as others. It seems that lately the wrong things have been consuming my mind. Thoughts that depress me slow everything down. I spend so much time just wishing to escape it all and find a safe place. I know that I should be studying. I know that I should join Shayle whenever she invites me to study with her and her friends instead of making excuses. I’m constantly surprised that she believes me when I say that I prefer to study alone, or that I’m going to the lake to draw…
Life though; it’s the strangest thing there is. I’m pretty sure it was meant to be seen through the eyes of humor, but that gets tough at times. I was crying when I began writing tonight; I can still feel the cool stains of tears upon my cheeks, but the tears have stopped flowing. I suppose that means I should use this time to do something productive. Hadunus (Goodnight).
________________________________________
I’m crying, and crying right now and I know that there must be others in my position. I don’t know how to explain everything or anything at all. I wouldn’t even know who to explain it to. They say if you try at something and don’t succeed you must try at it again; until you succeed. Well that’s ashpen! I’m so very fed up of socializing; of trying. I know that you are thinking that I haven’t really tried that much; but lately I have tried! And everywhere I turn I find that people aren’t worth it.
I hate people! I hate myself, and I hate everything. I hate you for rejecting me and I hate myself because I can’t figure out why you rejected me. Because I’m too weak to just be like everyone else. Because all I do is cry and feel pain. PAIN there’s so much pain. And not everyone feels this. Don’t ******* tell me everyone feels this. Because this right here. This pain is enough to kill.
It’s enough to make anyone slit their wrist in impatience; because it’s clear that this much pain will kill you if only you sit still and wait. And I can’t explain it. No; I don’t know where it came from or if it’ll ever end. I don’t have a solution and I can’t even look at my own reflection anymore. I like darkness because I’m afraid that someone will see that I’m always crying. I say I’m fine because I don’t have a way of explaining this. And I’m so afraid to try and explain this.
I used to think that I couldn’t be alone; that life had to have some justice and that in the end everyone must feel the same amount of pain. Now I know that I was very wrong. Not everyone could live like this, and in fact I’m pretty sure that it’s very few of us who are cursed enough to know this much pain. I know they aren’t this unhappy because I was them once; I was happy once. Those times are over for me though.
I could stay in this burrow for the entire day and cry…and please don’t tell me this is not real. Don’t ******* tell me that I’m being dramatic or looking for sympathy; because I’m not. I just don’t know what else to do. I don’t have a way of releasing this pain I don’t have anyone who cares, and of the people who can care there’s no one for me to let in. I don’t know how to let anyone into this much pain, and I know that letting someone in will only serve to cause me more pain.
I don’t know who I am anymore; I was someone who loved life once. I was someone who loved myself and others, now I’m just someone who harbors pain. Now I’m tired. I’m weak. I cry for things that don’t matter because there are so many tears inside me and there’s no way out because I am part of the problem. I am part of what I hate in people. I am just as self-centered as any other ******* out there and I don’t know what to do but cry. Shut out the light, call on my ancestors and hope that no one hears me cry. I’m trying…
I’m trying to let someone in. But every time I try I get hurt and it seems no one else feels like this. I know what you’re thinking; that I have to learn to laugh at life. Maybe not take things so seriously…just relax, just relax. I’m trying. Believe me, I’m trying. Can you imagine being this alone among so many people? And the more alone you feel the harder it gets to be social at all. The less social you are the easier you become to hurt, the more unstable you are as a person. Or maybe it’s all in my head. Maybe boredom has made me dramatic.
Please don’t tell me that I’m just being dramatic. And worse; don’t tell me that you feel sorry for me and that you’d like to let me know everything will be alright because you don’t give a dam about me. I don’t know how it works in your world. I don’t know how you feel. I don’t know who or what gets you by, but I know here tonight, now; I am alone. You can’t help me and you have no idea how I feel.
These words you read are just words to you while to me they are tears, stifled tears, tears that are still inside of me and parts of the tears that I shed right now. Right now I hate you. I hate you for laughing with your friends, for starting a family, for having someone to love you… for doing everything that normal people do…yes you. I hate you.
Or maybe I just hate myself, and the fact that I can’t really hate you…
________________________________________
I feel it becoming a permanent part of me. This depression. I spend so much time trying to keep afloat. I want to cry but I seem to have reached a dry point. There is no one to hear me screaming. I want to cry but I won’t, soon I will go patch my pain in the world of connection. Writing doesn’t even help tonight. My mind just keeps questioning my past. It keeps wondering if those I think of still remember me. Only distractions can help me; distractions from this pain and hope; that relentless hope that someday I will again experience peace.
I do hate this life; this dry emotionless life sentence of time. Time. It seems amazing the amount of time I waste each day in trying to keep myself from slipping into depression. It’s like this sadness’ entire purpose in life is to haunt me. In every quiet second, sadness haunts my mind. It brings the bits and pieces of negatives in my life to light. My guilt, my fears, my losses; they all surface at once. At this moment all I can see is a darkness following me, it’s directly behind me and the only way to get rid of it is to distract my mind so that the corners of my eyes cannot indulge it.
It hates to be ignored you see, but do not be tricked into believing that this sadness is something easy to ignore. It isn’t, it takes everything within me to ignore this sadness, but sometimes everything you have is worth it. Maybe I’m just crazy though. At times I feel so crazy, crazy and close to the edges. I’m never quite sure whether my mind is overcrowded or under crowded at these times. I know right now most of all I feel scared.
I’m so afraid that nothing will work out in my life. And again this life seems two folded; for I fear that no one will ever see my pain on one hand, and on the other I fear that I will one day reach a point where everyone sees my pain. In this second fear I see insanity consuming me and causing me to become the talked about Jaleyne who simply tripped under life’s pressures. Every time I see a ‘mad-one’ I think of how easily that could one day be me.
What is this love that I seek so? Why is it that I need someone so much more than everyone else does? Why does my soul crave a connection while the souls of others seem so content? Am I so different that no one will ever see me Utori? And why? Why am I so different? Why does no one else feel with my intensity or think about the things that I do? Will I ever find this thing that I seek Utori? Or will I ever be okay without it?
This depression I carry with me tonight seems determined to say with me. It will not let me sleep. I suppose this is its cruel sense of humor. I wasted much of my day today. I keep wondering how others keep afloat; this question usually makes me feel like a child sitting in some lonely crevice staring out at the world. It’s like I’m sitting still there while everyone else just lives their lives. No one else is bothered by these questions, and no one else seems to be haunted by my darkness.
I end up wondering where it is that they find the energy; the strength to be so productive with their lives! There is so much that I can do, and I see this as well, but I am so drained by my depression. And there is no one looking into my crevice. And yes; I still miss him. In fact I still miss everything about him, so many months have passed now and I can still remember his scent. So much time, yet still I have not accepted that I am no longer his. I’m tired of crying though, and I’m even more tired of blaming myself.
Yet there is no one else to blame. It was by my hand that he left; by my foolish and young-hearted mistakes. But Utori you cannot play innocent for you did trick me, you did lead me to believe that I could not love. I simply did not wish to hurt him, and by the time I saw my mistake it was too late. Tell me why is it that you test us so? And why does failing your test bring such pain into our lives? I pray that this pain has meaning. It is all I ask, that out of all this pain you bring me some light; someone who can be the reason that it never worked out with the others.
For now though, bless my mind with as much sanity as you can spare, and keep it away from the edges. Let it focus on things other than my losses and my pain. And Utori find me a lover so that once more I can have a home within the arms of another. Give me this home one more time and I will never falter again. Let that someone be capable of seeing my pain, and let me be capable of seeing his truth. I know that I ask for a lot, and in reality I do not expect that I should be granted it. Still I write these requests, so that they can leave my heart. They may not leave my heart forever, but in seeking peace tonight… I must write.
I must warn that my requests are not to be answered because no other needs to see the pain I harbor and no man deserves the curse of being my partner. As much as it hurts for me to accept it, solitude, which will continue to drive my mind near to the edges, is my fate. Another lover will only put me closer to the edges, and I fear that I am too close as it is to risk this. All I can do is hope that one day I find meaning in the pain this life has brought me.
________________________________________
More dryness. A sort of stiff dryness that is so resilient to depth; to deep pain. Of all the questions in the world today I ask if this dryness is good or bad. Do you know what it feels like when you want to cry but you just can’t? That is what I mean by dryness. It’s almost as though you are dead. All I can do is think about all the things that usually make me cry and hope that some tears surface. Without tears you begin to wonder if you are still human. I don’t know how to explain what it’s like. I feel like someone who has been scared too much.
It’s hard to believe that I’m still dealing with the realization that everyone I meet leaves me. I’ve been completely alone for almost a year now and my scares have not healed. I don’t know how to heal because I spend so much time simply trying to find ways of hiding this pain I carry. And I’m not even sure why I’m hiding it. It sometimes feels as though they can see through me. I don’t think they do though. I wonder who the people that love songs are written about are. I keep wondering where everyone else gets the strength to continue living from.
I don’t know if I have any tears left. I don’t know if I have anything left. Everything seems so empty. I can’t even find anything beautiful in myself anymore, and it feels like I’ve tried everything. I’m pretty sure I have tried everything. I loathe this life and I’m tired of depending on my clan. I know that that sounds crazy but I just feel so worthless compared to them. I feel unworthy of being a part of them. I want to be free of the Xawhao title. I can’t explain what I want, I’m not even sure that I know.
I do hate this life though. I hate getting up on a morning; I hate the fact that I can do nothing all day long and get away with it. I hate the fact that everyone else does things with their lives. There is so much to do in this world, so much to learn, yet I sit in the darkness and sulk. And I don’t know what else to do with this silence but write through it. It’s scary the way silence can hurt. It can feel like the air around you is just waiting to squash you and all you can think is ‘hurry-up’.
I know others suffer as well, but no one seems to suffer like this. The sickest part is that there is no solution to this pain. It’s a thing you learn in life early on if you are paying attention; there are no permanent solutions to anything in life. Like my hair, I can fix it in any fashion that I want to, I’d always find that at some point I’d have to fix it over. Being happy is something like that. You can’t just do one thing and become happy, you have to make the things that make you happy a part of your life and do those things every day.
It hurts not having any more tears, I feel dry like Utori has given up on me finally. I feel as though Utori has taken away its way of letting me cleanse. Why did they all leave me? What am I missing that those other girls have? Why do I fall for the lies that I am told? Utori maybe it is not this life that I hate, maybe it is my own self that I need to hate. Everyone else seems to make it through just fine. Everyone else is able to learn, build structures and add to Lementord’s beauty. Everyone besides me.
I know I must always sound like I’m complaining, like I think that life owes me something. I know you don’t owe me anything Utori, but please just show me what I’m doing wrong. I’d change. I’d change in a heartbeat if you just showed me what I’m missing. Just tell me what I did wrong. Tell me who I’ve hurt, what injustice I have committed. I’d change if only you’d show me how. I’m scared. I’m scared of how deep my sadness can run. I’m afraid of all the people in Lementord who can’t see how much pain I’ve been through and who will hurt me further.
I’m so afraid that all my days to come will all be lived in this silence. Because I know that I can’t fix this. I can’t help but be this person. I hate life. It sends me such misfortune, such pain, such suffering, such silence. I wonder if anyone will ever see into my heart. I’m so afraid to truly let anyone in, because I can no longer even stand to think about the person that I truly am. It would be nice if someone saw though, if someone could see and just accept. If they could know that I never meant to be this person.
I’ve changed so much from the girl I once was. I didn’t even see myself changing, but change is a difficult thing to entirely miss because it hurts to change. I must not talk of pain any longer though. I must not allow myself to feel with such depth. There is no one that sees me and loves me, and I don’t think anyone really can. I miss my childhood. I miss ignorance, clarity and peace. I wish death would come upon me. Lementord is a place of many mysteries. Death seems beautiful though, I hope that death finds me soon. Very soon.
________________________________________
