When I woke up already I could tell it would be a cold day.
The sun shone forth as we opened the unhinged door, alighting a world that had otherwise been asleep. A dog, noticing us, barked and scurried off, while a group of birds sang in the sunlight. They couldn't resist; the sunlight is an alluding thing. All winter long the skies are covered in a thick layer of clouds, a grey-blue tint shrouding the world. Hearts fall during these times, spirits get doused, and everyone begins wishing for the sun.
"Shit," Tamiko cursed, a cloud escaping from her lips. "It's damn cold."
A sky without clouds loses insulation. For every wish that the sun would shine, a being would die to the frost.

What to do...?

Fear holds me back; the fear of making a decision. -__- What do I want to "be" when I grow up? Of course I want to write books, but breaking into that sort of job can be difficult. Especially for me...who has been writing CB for years now. Keane was saying to me he knows lots of people who only write, but that's after gaining some ground isn't it? I feel like if I'm going to be a "writer" I need some form of income until I can publish my first book.

And then now I'm discovering that teaching is actually pretty difficult to get into. There's a lot of processes that seem totally confusing to me when I tried doing research online. And now I have the opportunity to volunteer in a classroom to gain some experience, but I don't know if I should...

Maybe I should be writing instead?

"Experience is always good."

Yeah, it is...isn't it? But what should I do...maybe just worry about finishing CB. Maybe then, everything should just fall into place for me. Aim to being a teacher, and then if I finish CB and I end up having to focus on that, then I will...?

Time. Things take time. I think I constantly fail to realize this. Confidence, motivation, knowledge, constitution. Can I really take a step up?

New name

Going to sleep so late....again ahhhh...

Karas' new name is Mathis. I think it suits him perfectly.

It's brilliant.

Karas was too weird to say...Mathis seems more human, and less like I'm trying to copy the anime...hahaha

p.s It means gift of god.

The Steward

Still intend to fix up some things here and there (arms too long). Anyway this is Johayn! I've become very attatched to her <3. Why do I like cross-dressing girls...don't ask me!!! Blame the manga I read T____T

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“Johayn, when you are done dressing Finely be sure to stop by Myrtle’s room; she is being difficult,” Steward Musec spoke slowly in his timeless way, as if he were spilling dry leaves from his lips. His words were dead, the emotion in his dark eyes bleak. Everything about him was serious, even the way he kept his wine-colour vest, finely pressed shirt, dark brown trousers, and polished shoes perfectly orderly. The way he held himself, one arm holding the door slightly ajar, the other stiff at his side, spoke of perfect service. Despite that he was not aged, it was as if through such rigorous control he had managed to at least conserve his beauty. Those black-pooled eyes matched his slicked back black hair, short and simple for someone who worked all day long. It did not take anyone long to notice how interestingly well he contrasted with the King; one white, the other black, as different as night and day.
“Yes, sir,” she mumbled, tying the two year old’s shoelaces without much thought. The boy was averting his gaze, watching Johayn’s actions intently with dark blue eyes. His scrappy black hair was covering his face, hiding the frown that Musec would most likely disapprove of.
The Steward didn’t need to see the child’s face to know his displeasure, but there was not much to be done for it. He left without a word, leaving the two in a vast room with two attendants, both waiting patiently as usual in case they were needed. Johayn may be the future Steward, but a five and two year old could never be left unattended.
At such a young age she already understood Musec, and why he was so stiff. Naturally she took after him, dressed in a green vest and nice white shirt, with grey pants. Queen Cameron had seen to her dressing, being sure to fiddle with her gold ribbon about her neck, making sure it looked ‘gentlemanly’ but still ‘adding a feminine touch’, as she put it. It suited Johayn well, matching her soft brown hair and wide, brown eyes. Queen Cameron had also cheated there, making sure that her hair was just above the shoulder. A popular male style but still feminine enough to make any who pass by wonder. Not that anyone really wondered; everyone knew (but didn’t really care) that Johayn was a girl.
She straightened herself, watching as Finely looked up with his dark blue eyes, a pleading within them. Tussling his short black hair, she held his hand gently with reassurance.
"It's okay," she whispered, leading him to the adjoining room. It was not enough, she knew, but was helpless to remove the terrible memories this child held in his heart.
"Miss Myrtle?" Johayn mumbled, tapping the door lightly. "May I enter?"
There was shuffling, and then an attendant was opening the door, allowing the two into a room fit for a princess. As she was one, Princess Myrtle sat defiantly on her grand bed, arms crossed and eyes blazing. She was surrounded by a room decorated with all types of lace and flowers, puppets and comfortable furnishings; her own fine outfit, long dark hair and light blue eyes matched the setting well. For a four year old, Myrtle was already fitting into her role well.
"Don't call me miss, Johayn," she whined, watching as the two made their way over.
Johayn smiled, holding out her hand slowly to the little girl. "I didn't, I called you Miss Myrtle."
The princess' lip quivered, frustration sparking tears to well up in her eyes. Reluctantly she took Johayn's hand, always staring into those wide brown eyes. "I hate him," she whispered, so low only Johayn could hear.
The only thing she could do was squeeze the Princess' hand in recognition; Johayn's own feelings didn't matter. All she had to do was make sure they were there on time, and that by the time they got there the two children at her sides would not be fearful, but smiling as if they'd missed their brother intensely.

emptiness

Right now I am trying to cry. I know it's weird, why would I want to cry? But I should because...of this and that...and yet I can't bring myself to. At 4am last night, I felt so passionate about a lot of things that my heart swelled with happiness. Now I feel like a log, a tired log, and I don't want to sleep with my heart feeling this empty.

Goodnight
Goodnight

Two matching, boring phrases accompanied by sad faces.

Argh, there is just this, now, and the future is a hazy grey of uncertainty. To say stupid things like, "I want to spend every day with you" seems so impossibly hard. Where are we going? What kind of path will this put us on? I have so many regrets...I don't know where to begin.

And mainly I wonder, what happened to that girl who used to feel so passionate about so many things? Is this what being old is like? Suddenly you're too tired to feel a blazing heart, and everything becomes monotonous.

Between work and those empty spaces that define us, even now I find myself wishing you would place your hand on my cheek for just a little longer. A long time ago, when you used to walk away I would cry after you left, but now I merely move on. I think this feeling came over you long ago, or maybe you were always like this, because it's so rare I see you overly sad from missing me.

There are so many simple things that send tears down my cheeks while writing. Especially thinking about the fact that you will not even read this.

Here...in this purple abyss, I'm thinking about your eyes, your smile, your bushy chin. I'm trying to remember what it felt like to hold your hand only hours ago. I'm wishing I could make you laugh just one more time today...

But there is just here, now, and the hardships will only increase. Saying these desperate things are pointless...crying and writing to a wall of purple while you sleep empty of dreams.

Sometimes I think without meaning to, that it'd be nice to see how much you miss me...instead of just hearing those words I've heard a million times for 5 yrs now...

"i miss you"

maybe instead i'd like it to be "i miss you so much i could cry"

some random wish i just had...was to go ice skating with you. just the two of us...wouldn't that be nice...

goodnight, and don't worry, whoever does read this, because I wanted to feel this sad, this passionate about something. and i succeeded, and in some odd way, i'm happy.