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Of the long winter.

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The emotional void disturbs me every day. I speak mantras to myself over and over again, some pleasant, some not.

I have done everything I can do. (It's never enough.)

What I'm doing, how I'm feeling, is completely irrelevant in the scheme of things. My work is irrelevant, my opinions are irrelevant, my past is irrelevant, my future is irrelevant. The present doesn't matter and neither do my needs.

The lion satisfies them, for small moments, but it's not enough as well. But I refuse to play the romance games anymore. I don't want to meet new people. I've known too many as it is, they're all a blur these days.

I don't know how I can be satisfied with my life and my existence. I don't know I can justify myself. I fear I never can be satisfied, that the hunger will consume me, has consumed me. I can't speak of the raw depths to which I have fallen in such a way that it would explain to people. There aren't enough words in the language to express the pain.

I thought people cared. They still profess to care, from time to time. I don't believe them. Actions, not words. That's what matters to me.

I gave my ex-apprentice one last gift in appreciation for her time. Though I feel like the person I knew and the person I found were two different people. I'm not sure whether one was more genuine than the other. I do know that one of the mantras is simple:

I still love her, I still desire her touch, but I can't do a thing about it. The person I knew does not have time for me anymore. The lessons she learned were not mine. Her path isn't mine. Yet I still think of her and flog myself over it.

She flogged me. For one brief moment. The external wounds matched the internal wounds, for once. It felt like freedom. I'll never see the like again. There is no one I can ask who could be that cruel and kind. But myself.

I have learned lessons. That I don't want to be part if this world anymore. That the things I care about, the yearninga deep in my soul, aren't shared by most - if any. I thought she did. Maybe she does. Maybe we're all afraid to admit the truth. I don't know.

I do know that I'm afraid to show that side to the lion. He is not an apprentice or an equal but a servant, one who enjoys the servitude and continually assures me that I can do little wrong by encouraging it. He also is running into severe debt due to other reasons.

I can't let myself go again. I can hold him, I can love him, I can feel and share his lust, but by definition he is not an equal. Somehow this makes me feel better. I don't know why. Perhaps it's because I know I can meet his needs without much concern or worry.

Things break apart. I hold on, as I always have. My heart and my soul are broken. I took a chance and lost. Even if I went back to Birya, that piece has been lost. I used to accept it by forgetting it.

Now it just lingers like the Bight fog.

I want to die. To end this all.

I just can't figure out a good enough reason why.


Posted via m.livejournal.com.

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