Post by desna on May 3, 2008 22:49:37 GMT -5
Dear journal,
It seems like as good a time as any to start writing again, since I'm all but stir crazy waiting out the siege. I want to go into town and visit people, buy things, explore, annoy my friends, anything. The more I'm in this house the more I'm thinking, I know how dangerous that can be. An empty room on the right side of the room haunts me more than it should, I walk by it and I always feel that my Nana should be sitting in there knitting or waiting to style my hair. She always loved my hair... Nana wanted me to keep it long so it could be kept up like my mothers was when she was younger, last spring I'd all but sheared it off, now it falls around my shoulders, I'm not very good with hair so when I trim it I can never get it straight, Nana would have chided me...
The last time I'd kept a journal I was nine, learning the finer points of poetry and writing, I honestly wasn't even aware I had a journal, parchment is expensive. I can only speculate it was a birthday present, not this year of course, years ago. Still on that note I'm seventeen now. I don't feel any older then I was at nine but I know that I am, this is an odd thing to think about. It's hard to write when the ground shakes now and then, I'll only write a little more. Pikatti is almost always growling, I can't make his fur flatten to his back. I wonder if his hair will fall out from the tension. He's hidden in his bed of furs in the corner, poor boy must be worried.
Yesterday or the day before the battle was reaching a high point, I thought it was going to end but the bombing of Shai continued. I wish that I was a skilled artisan, the scene was something out of a fairytale, for the people in the city it had to have been a horror story. I'm far from the actual front of this battle but I can feel the impacts very clearly, I can only wonder how it feels miles from here in Shai. When I go outside and watch the destruction it's actually beautiful, fat red birds loom over the skies, the other day I saw one or two of them come crashing down to the earth as if pulled by some unknown fishing line. Balls of crimson and yellow dart the sky, when I allow myself to forget the city is one that I've visited since I was a child I can appreciate the spectical I'm seeing as a master piece, instead of a grim reality. Ships dot the harbor, I can't see it very well but it looks like they're flying firenation colors, they defiantly aren't water tribe. I hope the ocean consumes them like in the last siege, I don't know if things would ever be the same with the fire nation owning control of the city, the only think I know for sure is that I have the best seat for the battle.
I'm going to try and get some rest after I feed Pikatti, good night
P.S. What is the color of anxiety?
It seems like as good a time as any to start writing again, since I'm all but stir crazy waiting out the siege. I want to go into town and visit people, buy things, explore, annoy my friends, anything. The more I'm in this house the more I'm thinking, I know how dangerous that can be. An empty room on the right side of the room haunts me more than it should, I walk by it and I always feel that my Nana should be sitting in there knitting or waiting to style my hair. She always loved my hair... Nana wanted me to keep it long so it could be kept up like my mothers was when she was younger, last spring I'd all but sheared it off, now it falls around my shoulders, I'm not very good with hair so when I trim it I can never get it straight, Nana would have chided me...
The last time I'd kept a journal I was nine, learning the finer points of poetry and writing, I honestly wasn't even aware I had a journal, parchment is expensive. I can only speculate it was a birthday present, not this year of course, years ago. Still on that note I'm seventeen now. I don't feel any older then I was at nine but I know that I am, this is an odd thing to think about. It's hard to write when the ground shakes now and then, I'll only write a little more. Pikatti is almost always growling, I can't make his fur flatten to his back. I wonder if his hair will fall out from the tension. He's hidden in his bed of furs in the corner, poor boy must be worried.
Yesterday or the day before the battle was reaching a high point, I thought it was going to end but the bombing of Shai continued. I wish that I was a skilled artisan, the scene was something out of a fairytale, for the people in the city it had to have been a horror story. I'm far from the actual front of this battle but I can feel the impacts very clearly, I can only wonder how it feels miles from here in Shai. When I go outside and watch the destruction it's actually beautiful, fat red birds loom over the skies, the other day I saw one or two of them come crashing down to the earth as if pulled by some unknown fishing line. Balls of crimson and yellow dart the sky, when I allow myself to forget the city is one that I've visited since I was a child I can appreciate the spectical I'm seeing as a master piece, instead of a grim reality. Ships dot the harbor, I can't see it very well but it looks like they're flying firenation colors, they defiantly aren't water tribe. I hope the ocean consumes them like in the last siege, I don't know if things would ever be the same with the fire nation owning control of the city, the only think I know for sure is that I have the best seat for the battle.
I'm going to try and get some rest after I feed Pikatti, good night
P.S. What is the color of anxiety?