Author Topic: Mental Notes-Journal of a Blacksmith (Some Mature Themes)  (Read 2480 times)

Kruger

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Re: Mental Notes-Journal of a Blacksmith (Some Mature Themes)
« Reply #15 on: October 18, 2012, 02:59:55 AM »
There is a point at which we say enough and carry the fight to our foes.  But what about when that fight needs to be picked up for another?  I am not above this thing I must do.  I am in fact guilty of the charges that will likely be aimed my way.  This won't deter me I am if anything resolved in the courses of action that I must undertake.  A fool, perhaps I am.  Cold?  If I must be cold then let it be a temperature so deep as to freeze the enemy where they stand.  I will not tolerate...I will not pontificate.  I will strike while you look at me...I will strike if you look away.  I will strike out of darkness and hate, do not let your guard down for I hold not to logic.  In the end it makes complete sense to me to throw away a thousand lives to save the ones closest to me.  

This is my crede taken recently.  Once I would have stood and made the world safer.  Once I would have stood for the people of Rhy'Din first.  Someone must have known and wished it not to be so.  I would gladly place every man woman and child before those I consider MINE...and laugh as they are slaughtered before me.  I hold not to the belief that the good of the many outweigh the needs of the few.  These are my few, and they will take precedence and I will be the last to fall before the blade that seeks their heart.  

In this I am expendable.

Kruger

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Re: Mental Notes-Journal of a Blacksmith (Some Mature Themes)
« Reply #16 on: November 05, 2012, 12:29:25 AM »
My world it seems is run by others, those who have said that the burdens you will bear will never be more than you can handle need to be brought before me.  You who have seen to it that the burden is great, to you I say how dare you!  

What has she done that you should impose upon her that way.  I will discover your hiding places and you will be called to account!  I am angry you will say....you're right.  It will diminish you will claim..this I promise in return...it will never diminish so far that I won't give to you the same that has been dished to us...to her.  Yours is a fate that has one ending...it is simply the when that is in play.

The roulette wheel turns, the ball she spins and flies.  There are no winners on this turn.  Well except for those of us who didn't bet at all.

Kruger

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Re: Mental Notes-Journal of a Blacksmith (Some Mature Themes)
« Reply #17 on: January 04, 2013, 01:35:55 PM »
At what point did my world change?  The harshness of life is meant to be tempered with a softer side.  Is this not the truth?  I stare into the void on a daily basis looking at the darkness.  Looking at myself staring back at me.  This man seeks an agreement before the stone seat of the hag.  His promise is unity, balance, I do not trust him.  I know of all his deeds and can say that he lacks honor.  That he has no courage to persevere.  I will not easily take the hand before me.  Pride?  There is a place for it...I posess it.  It belongs to me.  It is not my problem it is a strength.  

So why do I question myself regarding it?

Shai, there is no time that you haven't crossed my thoughts.  When does the man you love become stranger?  Am I this now?  The need to separate was within me.  To keep at bay a darkness that I never wished to touch Belglade.  We have given enough.

Kruger

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Re: Mental Notes-Journal of a Blacksmith (Some Mature Themes)
« Reply #18 on: February 08, 2013, 04:53:06 PM »
The journal sat on the desk in the study.  Silk ribbon marked his spot that place where he had left off and become distant again.  He sat and opened the book growling at his last entry.  The ink bottle came out and the quill started to scritch across the page.

I have done harm...I laugh at the reasons others put on me.  Shai knows, understands even.  There is more to this simple smith that petty feelings for one who refused my help, and then would never tell me if she lived or died.  I am supposed to be entrhalled by her?  I am thrall to no man or woman!  I am conscience.  I am the hard line, the one that reminds when wrong has been done.  I feel nothing for the child but pity.  

Panther...so strange to see you.  How long ago did I see your shape within my castings.  A call...a warning?  I don't know.  I know that in one moment I saw every deed undone.  Every drop of blood that could have been prevented.  I acted on that, calling to account...and knowing I am undeserving to be the judge.  

I carry my uncertainties with me.  Purgatory by my own hand...Heaven and Hell held in my hands and the only promise I get is someday I will be judged.  Left to me, given what I have done...what I know I will do in the uture.  My fate may be sealed in the afterlife.  Bound...I have been bound before..and beaten...beaten often.  Never defeated...never the thrall...Goddess why does this bother me so.  My sins are my own...no one made me do them.  None can free me from accountability save myself...and I am just not willing to do that today.

Kruger

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Re: Mental Notes-Journal of a Blacksmith (Some Mature Themes)
« Reply #19 on: October 20, 2013, 08:49:23 PM »
I haven?t been here for a while, in a place where conviction and confliction meet. I see things, some hard to bear. Faces come to mind and leave me questioning myself and every step I take. I am filled with rage, an arrogant wrath that has no limits to what it will let me do. The bad part is I like it, am comforted by it in ways that I haven?t known before. I can?t remember who I am sometimes, not amnesia, not some mind sickness that afflict others. This is me questioning everything that I know.

Memories of kindness done to me are still there and I just want to rip them from me and cast them away. I want to be the blackness that is fear. Is this from the new forge? I can?t say it isn?t, I had to accept it inside of me in order to be the master there. Every deed done, each that will be is tainted with the filth of death and destruction. I crave destruction sometimes. Did you know this would happen Brian? Did you bank on my resolve to overcome it? I feel weak now, stretched to limits that I never knew human flesh could be. The old ways haunt me, they tear at my dreams and leave me sleepless and exhausted.

I pray for release, to die a little death that will leave me free. I hope for a light touch on my chest that tells me I am still human, still good. Mother?Brigid you haven?t spoken in so long. What am I now mother? Why am I haunted by gazes that can never be real? I know my soul, it yearns for things that I do not deserve. I want to be the man others see and all I can do is pretend, to smile and play off how hollow I am right now. It wears at me, takes me down roads that I have travelled before and become lost upon.

 Let me go?everyone should just let this husk go. I can make my bed among the stones and live in the darkness of my ordered madness. These hands have been gentle, but I do not know how to keep them so. When I began there was nothing more I wanted than to be needed. Today I will go, and tonight I will be the cause of more pain. When tomorrow comes I do not know which Kruger will emerge from the fires. I don?t care either.

It?s been so long since that night, her eyes were green, her hair fire. She burned me inside, the fire?fire and pain and I can?t stop feeling it even now. I am no hero, no courageous man. I am ash and soot, I am sweat and effort. I am an empty death in a world where everyone lives forever. Mother?I am the sin of the world, wrath, sloth, gluttony and greed. I am so much pride and lust. Where is the all conquering love now? Where are you Kruger? Why can?t you save the one who needs you most? Why can?t you save yourself?

Kruger

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Re: Mental Notes-Journal of a Blacksmith (Some Mature Themes)
« Reply #20 on: October 31, 2013, 07:52:39 AM »
I remained quiet. There were questions, I did not answer though. If the question got close I drew farther into myself. She let me alone eventually, seeing that I was not ready to talk. How do I talk over something I barely understand myself. I still carry the note that was tacked to my door. I had heard the knocks and refused to answer. Inside I knew that the child was born. Funny what happens isn't it? The impregnable becoming so in the first place.

Is it mine? There is more reason to believe it is than ever an argument can be made against it that much is sure. I am not denying the child, it won't want for anything. The rumor is she named him Nikolai Aristotle. As fine a name as any to be sure. There will be questions now, maybe forever. The bed I purchased, it will house the child, so very like the gate of that place that I rebuilt with my own hands. Now I am here though there are others, but for the most part it is quiet here. I get what I need, a pillow a bed. There is a kitchen though I can't recall the last time I ate because I felt hungry. That should concern me, why doesn't it though? I forget food, give it up to complete my projects. I feed myself with them.

As for anything else I receive, there will be those who believe this move is motivated by something other than, I refuse to be dependent on any thing but myself. Let them think what they choose, if they speak it I will simply slap the words from their mouth, and perhaps a few teeth as well. Say what you will about me, I deserve what I have brought upon me. Keep your waggling tongues from uttering anything about anyone else though.


The journal was shoved deep into a drawer. He had given up needing to burn every page he wrote, but had yet to feel comfortable enough to leave it anywhere that someone might happen across it. Sitting heavily into a chair the light in the room falling away as the day came to an abrupt close. Kruger refused to turn on the light, he stared at the wall knowing only one thing. There was still so much work to do, so many projects that he couldn't ever seem to finish.

He turned to look at the face in the mirror and barely recognized the man he was looking at. If it weren't for the brand on the cheek he never would have believed it was him. "What are you looking at?"

Kruger

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Re: Mental Notes-Journal of a Blacksmith (Some Mature Themes)
« Reply #21 on: October 31, 2013, 12:43:12 PM »
He sat in the room the darkness still surrounding him. It had been a few hours but it felt like longer. The pen scritched across the page of Kruger?s journal. He hadn?t found peace yet, hadn?t discovered the road to sleep. It wasn?t some game he was playing there just was nothing driving him to his bed and it had been so for some time now.

Time Flies, that is what they tell me anyway but I have felt every second since coming here. I have felt them click by and knew that I could do more between the halting steps of the second hand than anyone ought to ever be able. Time does not fly, it lingers like the scent of a dead polecat biting at the nostrils to remind the world of the stench of its existence. Time is foolish and empty. Its keepers are stupid sleeping figures that while away days, weeks, and months through the year and wake thinking??my that year went so quickly?. Wake up keepers, and take a look around, the rest of the world felt everything you missed. The rest of the world saw tragedy and comedy, crying and laughing as it should. Those of us who remained awake were there to see the fall of governments, to see the emptiness of lost loved ones.

Time does not fly, it is the rusted straight razor that rips into the souls of men and women leaving us hollow. Time doesn?t care though, it sees only itself as it moves ever forward and drags the rest of us along in a winding unstoppable miasma of pain and anguish. There have been more tears from time than ever there was a laugh. How I hate each lasting moment in this head of mine so full of the worst things I have done. How I spit cold fire at the hands of time, and watch it roll from his face like blood in the arctic. Take this ache that you have wrought onto yourself for once. Die as you force us to do a little every day. But feel it all at once.

Kruger

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Re: Mental Notes-Journal of a Blacksmith (Some Mature Themes)
« Reply #22 on: November 02, 2013, 09:17:17 AM »
I sat in the middle of the grounds, I don?t know what it meant but it was just a dream. One by one the houses began to move closer to me, to circle me slowly. As they moved right in front of me they began to change into people. The faces of the council looking down at me as they passed by, and I knew them all.  

One and another would reach to me touch me with sympathy, with an offer of support. Why do I doubt myself? What is it here that soothes me so? I can?t sleep until I have worked to the point that I can barely make it back here. I am in a room alone, which is something new. Not being alone, not by any means that. Not having to answer the questions of another or have them waiting is somehow more comforting than knowing an embrace for my return. I do things, make things and not all of them are pleasant. I don?t want to explain myself to anyone. I did not inspire myself to do these things. I can?t stop what others want.

It?s not always there, that driving need. When it?s gone I miss it. I am empty inside without the vision. Maybe Miranda is right and I am overworked. I don?t feel overworked I feel?nothing. The need was there yesterday, it was so powerful that I found myself on the way to the forge before I knew that was where I was going. The need drives me, she fills me to overflowing and then that spills into every great work that comes out of me.  But then it?s gone and I am left with only me and a weary body that still must move. I am left with thoughts that turn bitter and push the good right out of me. Was there ever any good inside of me? Who am I now mother? Am I the same man I was a year ago? Have I ever been a good man?

You won?t answer, you never do anymore. Once I saw you often, once I could see you but, only with eyes closed tight. Do you remember that? The boy who you played peek-a-boo with? I remember it, I remember you. It isn?t the same now, maybe I don?t need you so much?except that I do need you. Right now I need you. Tell me that everything will be okay. Tell me that you have not forgotten me. I want to come home. I want to come home to you.

Kruger

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Re: Mental Notes-Journal of a Blacksmith (Some Mature Themes)
« Reply #23 on: November 04, 2013, 05:32:30 AM »
His body still ached, when he had passed through the gates of the grounds he could barely walk from the aches.  He stayed silent though as he walked the pathways and passed by houses. Again his eyes went to them wondering why he seemed drawn in one direction or another. Had there been eyes on him? He would swear he felt them, but looking over his shoulder only revealed an empty path way. That was then though and he was sure that it would get worse the closer he got to home. It lingered, that feeling stuck to him like a piece of his clothing. The door to Warrior house cut it off, it always seemed to shut it away from him. Damn the door for being so thick. Damn the door for leaving him feeling alone again.

Kruger was grateful for the darkness, that outside and that within as well, it hid what he knew would be visible in daylight. The door to his room closed, and he hoped Angel wouldn?t charge in, not right now. He pulled the shirt from his back despite how it seemed to stick in places. Dark blotches of dried blood were present in places they shouldn?t be.  He turned his back to the mirror and looked as best he could over his shoulder lifting one arm then the other.  The skin had been peeled back in a pair of rake marks, one on each side. He turned to face the mirror and those claw marks were dug deeply across his abdomen. Four lines that stretched away from each other and continued all the way round to his back.  He used the shirt to dab at the places where scabs had torn away from the removal before cleaning the marks that he had no idea where they had come from.

When he finally sat, it was with his pen, and the journal that had been pulled from the recesses of his dresser.

I am haunted by things I do not understand. Injured by hands I do not see, and somehow I feel it is all my fault. There are times I hear crying, but no one is present, what is this that I am going through? Eyes in the dark, not normal dark but the dark of my own closed lids. That eternal pitch that will be my dying sight.

I feel it at odd times, but it changes. The eyes change not in look or intensity but there is something different in the gaze. I felt it across the grounds, feel it now occasionally but different than before. When I entered the feeling left me. I am paranoid, and have been before, the truth is that I want those eyes on me always. The cuts are new though, as are the bruises I surely feel in other parts of my body. All of them tell me one thing. I?ve failed.

It isn?t fair, because I don?t even know what I have failed at. Where are you now? Why do I feel you as if you have died? I can?t make the pain go, the emptiness of knowing that something has been stolen from me forever. Why did you never just reveal yourself to me? Why did you attach yourself to me if you never intended to stay? How could you make me need you? How could that need mean nothing in the end? I am a toy, that must be it. My heart matters not, my feelings are meant to be crushed. Laughing? I see you laughing now. Laughing at my pain, at the fool who you have put this over on so easily. I tried?you hid from me, and I could never find you when you needed me most. So now laugh at the failure I have become. The one I became for you.

Is g? dom do sh?ile ar dom.


Outside in the space near warrior house the sound of glass shattering would cause people to look up in time to see what a chest of drawers would look like if it tried to fly. It would only last a moment though its flight would seem like slow motion to many. In the broken pane above would stand the smith, freshly bleeding and staring out the window as though looking for something, or someone. The smith ignored the shattered dresser and the clothes on the ground.

?Stop hiding from me!? was the words he cried out before turning away from the shattered window and moving back into the room. Would they come now? Would they listen to him and come? Would anyone come again? Kruger dropped into the chair he had used to write and leaned back. His eyes were adjusting to the dark, and his body was beginning to shiver with the cold. ?I need your eyes on me.? He spoke the translation to his final entry quietly as tears burned their way down his cheeks.

Kruger

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Re: Mental Notes-Journal of a Blacksmith (Some Mature Themes)
« Reply #24 on: November 07, 2013, 01:15:43 AM »
I hurt you, deep inside I know that is the truth. I walked this day, walked though my body ached and my spirit told me to turn back. My path put me back on the grounds of Bristle Crios. I stopped to look in on the children, they always seem to make me smile. I haven't smiled since you've gone, and it shouldn't be so, because I didn't know you were here to begin with. You are always hiding from me.

Who are you, if not the one I once believed? What if I walked in your light? Tell me would that make us right? I never knew that one thing could mean so much yet never be visible. Faith is something that I have but I will never lay claims to understanding. The marks heal, and you are out there somewhere. Is he giving you what you need?  

Why does this time feel so wrong? Questions they come and they will never be answered by me alone. I want something that can never be real. Hope for a touch that only can be felt in a soul. It is all I can do to recall the embrace and know its gift to me. I hurt you though, with my anger and my hate it drove you from me. My insanity is complete now...the looks from the others are justified. I will remain though, here among the living. I will stay and call for you in my head and in my heart. Until my strength wanes and my body gives out. Perhaps then you will see me and I will find you. Is that where the urges come from? I just wish we had more time.

Kruger

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Re: Mental Notes-Journal of a Blacksmith (Some Mature Themes)
« Reply #25 on: November 11, 2013, 05:54:31 PM »
Silent nights and rains that beat bitter cold into the earth. These are my bedmates, the ones who comfort me. Do you find it strange that I am comforted by them? Don't be, for they are as nothing. That is the extent of comfort I feel, nothing but cold and silence. I should be grateful, I am made harder by this. The bitter moments that agony allows to slip away, with you in the presence of others, fills the hole you left inside of me.

Praise be that I need only to think crossly now, and the words of it could spill like acid to dissolve my conversation partners. I don't do this though, no I smile my grin and hope that none realizes that the being they speak to is dead inside. My heart may still beat, but that doesn't make me alive.

Do you want the truth from me? I don't want to feel alive inside now. I have known such heights with you that nothing could truly take that place in me. None that have held this physical body have ever raised my spirits so high. It is of course that height that will destroy me in the end, when I hit the bottom after being dropped by you. I am still falling, will always be falling deeper for you. Do you remember the promise? Duo mo chroi chun tu...Forever my heart for you.

Kruger

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Re: Mental Notes-Journal of a Blacksmith (Some Mature Themes)
« Reply #26 on: November 14, 2013, 12:04:51 AM »
I been sitting here staring at the clock on the wall. I been laying here thinking about the fall. I never had a chance to know, and no matter where I go I end up crying. Gazes of sympathy look my way, I can't count the amount of times I see it through the day. It?s a risk that I am taking, a need that has awakened and I am too proud to kneel and pray.

I've given you everything I know. I'm afraid of how much it will show and I'll be dying. It?s just another night alone, you are the one who's always gone. Is it that I just can?t face the truth? Am I of no further use? I am tired of waiting. I used to think freedom meant you could come and go. Why the hell does it make time go so slow. I talk to empty air, while the memory of your hair makes me go blind. The place in my life is still unfilled, don?t you know you broke my will. I don?t know the words to say, the ones that make you want to stay, and I?m out of time.

I find myself in places that never change. The only thing missing has left me tattered and frayed. There is an aching in my heart, and you know that it?s the part that wants you near me. It?s not fair of me to ask, for you to come and heal the past. I don?t believe I?m moving on, because my need it just too strong, it feels like you?ve died.  There?s no monument at which I can mourn, I try to reach for you and only find thorns. I just know your face was fare, and your eyes showed me you care, so where are you?

The words I?m giving you they make no sense. In my head they race for a hole that won?t mend. In a moment they?ll be gone, disappearing like the dawn and never coming round again. I?ve been sitting here staring at the walls, I?ve been hoping to stop my fall, but there is only one thing, to make it go away, and I won?t ask you to stay.

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Re: Mental Notes-Journal of a Blacksmith (Some Mature Themes)
« Reply #27 on: November 20, 2013, 10:35:33 PM »
Kruger?s hands shook as he held to the journal that just seemed to keep filling with his thoughts, no those were not thoughts they were wishes that he knew would never happen. The room was more lit than it had been since he had come to stay at Warrior House. Had there been anyone in attendance they may have been concerned over his seeming inability to begin. Within himself was the hard decision he needed to make, the words he scribed would echo that decision. The only problem was, as the nib rested nowhere near the page, Kruger hadn?t decided yet. That all too familiar burn was present in his eyes and he had no sulfurous smoke to blame it on.

The pen finally found its outlet as the ink began to scrawl across the parchment. Still his fingers trembled, and the man with forearms made hard from countless hours of wielding his hammer didn?t know how to stop them. Not without breaking something anyway, the pen, the mirror on the wall?his heart. He felt a curtain of iron pass over his heart and knew this was not the time and that he wasn?t strong enough to destroy himself as he should.

My sweet missing, you who have affected my every moment since you disappeared. I should cast you away, remove you from every thought and feeling that you have become a part of. I should do many things that won?t happen this night. I know I must decide, that I must let go despite my love of you, or maybe to prove it.

Letting go, just opening the fingers and slipping down into that hole that I have been climbing from for so long. I can?t force you to come to me, even the kindest touch would be a death stroke to what you mean. Still I cling though, I can?t see myself being okay perhaps I am not meant to be okay. Maybe that is what it means to love, never being in a state where I will feel safe. I don?t fear for my body, it has been broken before, the idea of physical pain doesn?t bother me. I fear for my heart and my head, I fell long ago and my rise has been slow. The jagged edges of a cliff face couldn?t sting more than the smallest thought of saying goodbye. I can?t do that now, I am not ready and I hope that you understand my procrastination.

It?s funny, I have turned up the lights and yet I still feel cloaked in darkness, madness. These memories keep going through my mind. Why is losing myself to that madness a decision that hurts less than letting it fall away? I want to ask if you are safe, but I am afraid that I will find that you are safe. More than that I don?t know what it would do to me if I discovered that somehow you are okay, that my feelings are the only ones boring holes into everything I know.

The face, I found it. Yes I make them laugh, all of them. Everyone deserves to laugh don?t they? Do you laugh where you are? Do you move from room to room and never pay me the smallest thought? I don?t know how else to interpret your absence. Tell me, will I ever know what I have done to drive you from me? Another crazy thought, and further into madness I ascend. It sits above me like a light in the dark offering warmth and comfort. I know it for what it is and still I want to be there to be as mad as anyone has ever been. I want it to take control of me to release me even as it sells me false visions of you in a perverted waking dream. Tonight I would take you any way I could get you, even if the thing I cling to does not really exist.

You are my madness, my goal for good or ill. I should let you go, to save my mind. I need to let you go to save my heart. I would sell my soul not to have to let you go.

Come back and reject me?kill me quickly.

Kruger

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Re: Mental Notes-Journal of a Blacksmith (Some Mature Themes)
« Reply #28 on: November 22, 2013, 11:29:40 PM »
Who determines the greatness of a man? Not I surely, I am a simple man, I do not wish to be anyone?s judge. There is some appeal to being an executioner in a mind that is frustrated. I know that would never be me either, I lie of course. There have been killings from me, Bree for one. The Butcher of Istandor, Romliv, I hardly consider him a man, I hardly consider what I did to him an execution. Others? A few others, maybe?perhaps a myriad of them I remember many campaigns and faceless zealots. Can that be considered execution? Why am I asking this question now when I started on something far more important? I don?t want to know?I don?t want to be reminded right now.

Perhaps it is true greatness is judged by others? What will be said of all of us when the time comes? I am many things of course. I know how I see me, an unworthy soul in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don?t need any accolades?please just keep them from me Goddess. I do only what I feel I must, or what I think someone forgot to do. To some I suppose that makes me a reckoning. To others, I don?t know, warped I suppose. There is no lie in me now. I can speak of what has occurred in my life. Answer for my sins, all of my sins to include those most recent acquired. I don?t believe anyone has heard me ask forgiveness.

I don?t want to be forgiven, I have said before when the Gods seek to judge me I will not kneel for it. I?ll stand and spit in their eye. I am a sinner, I am proud to be that amongst a world of the self righteous. May my particular hell be a special misery made just for me. You see my sweet, I move on?you affect me no more. Of course, I lie again?and lie and lie. I am trying to force you from me now. To take you from my thoughts and forget that you were here. It should be so easy?it should be done by now.

Aren?t I just a simple minded man with nothing but the calluses on his hands and the long lonely walk ahead through the years? Do I not bring such loneliness on myself? I can accept that I am now reaping what I have sewn, that the world I give up had a life where I could be happy?I am never happy now. Did I make a mistake? Perhaps I did, the question is do I care? Do I let the realizations that the life I choose is a life of pain sway me from that path? Goddess, you do have a special hell for me because I have not risen, nor have I run.

I saw the child, he is beautiful and strong. He will hold my name so long as he wishes it. What of Shai? I don?t know. I have destroyed?I remember the words yes. I have followed paths that she won?t understand. The same paths that no one understands, the steps are solitary and the light ahead is persecution. I walk there anyway leaving behind the light of a happiness that I doubt will ever be my own again.

I hurt so many this time. Will there ever be a good to come from it? The worst part of this is that I will continue to hurt them, over and over with every step I take to visit Nikolai at Belglade. Even then I was creating. So much was built with these hands, put together with sweat from this body and a need to be perfect. Who am I now? I believe a long life is due me, one that will forever be solitary.

The losses still hurt, they will?because I know no matter how many times I beg you to come and give me death, you will remain separated from me. I wonder if you will listen if I ask for life? I haven?t changed my heart. I have only recently discovered that I don?t have the strength, or is it that I am just not one of the great men?

Kruger

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Re: Mental Notes-Journal of a Blacksmith (Some Mature Themes)
« Reply #29 on: November 28, 2013, 08:59:31 AM »
I am supposed to be doing better now. I am supposed to be adjusting well to my decisions. I see the faces, the new smiles, and I know the power behind my lies. I told you I would do this for you. I do it even now trying to fool my greatest skeptic. Is it possible to fool ones self? Tell me love how long should you be gone before I stop aching for you? Tell me if a year would suffice or should I wait three?

How about I just not think of you at all anymore? I could stay quiet, say nothing and pretend that you don't exist. I might be able to hold that lie up to myself long enough to begin to believe. What then when you came back...if you came back. What do I do? Shall I begin again only to have myself torn again if you come back...when you come back?

Will you look at me and see happiness and wish to destroy it for your sake? Do you perhaps do that now? Is this my test? How long will it last? The world hears my silence over the loss of you and believes I have overcome. I sit here now and write that I have never lost you, nor will that sweetness ever be parted from me save by my own hand.

What then? Would you come for me then and wonder why I cannot remember? Would you push and pressure to have what you have lost? would you bring such visions of possibilities that I weep and beg to create? Would it hurt you if I lost love? Would you care?

Nobody knows the things I do to forget you. Nobody but me, yes and this book. If I read this will I know? If I know will I feel it again? Do those pieces of me go on loving even as I tear them out and give them new homes? I feel every little piece that I give up for you. I still feel the loss of them even though I can no longer remember what they hold.

I am doing the one thing no man has ever done willingly. I am encasing what I feel for you inside things so that long after this body is gone, and even the name Kruger is a memory...those feelings will live...they will be always there. You will come back to me, I know in my heart you will. Will you be able to captivate me again? I wonder if you will even try.