Lilliana's Journal
Posted: Sun Nov 08, 2015 1:05 pm
Lilliana sat down in a secluded spot within the desert of Tanaris. The sand worn rocks surrounded her small form, almost like ancient creatures who refused to discriminate whom they would shelter. She had no fear of being bothered here. Like her Sandfury brethren, she knew this desert and it’s inhabitants. If she wished for solitude, aside from certain spots within the Grim’s garrison, this was where she could find it.
Life had been quiet lately. Quiet in the sense that she hadn’t interacted with many of her fellow brothers and sisters in the Grim. Not to mention the other guilds. Her hand remained in the ongoing battle between Horde and Alliance, and Lilliana still found herself engaged in daily skirmishes. This was her diligent duty. However, the lack of spending time with her peers with the exception of a few recent and rather interesting outings, had put Lilliana in a place of emotional duress. She was an exceptionally social creature, and to be faced with silence on the other end always befuddled and saddened her. So, as the times forced, she decided to embrace this new solitude, for doing so had and always would be the best way to avoid loneliness.
In the darkness she had gathered herself within, resting with her back up against the rough rock wall of the inner cave. A leather bond book lay in her lap, a piece of charcoal rested upon the open pages. Faint light flickered from the edges of her violet staff, providing enough brightness from which her eyes could see. She had been sketching. As time passed she put the charcoal pieces away, and instead fetched a small pen. Her hands left smudges from the charcoal on the pages, but she proceeded to write. Her script surprisingly neat and delicate.
I don’t know if I can write about loneliness. Sometimes I think that I have right to speak on that, as I’ve long since passed beyond it in many ways. It may not seem like I have, but I have, years ago…..since Warneshi and the fight by Zul’furrak with the ones that I loved. Nothing has been the same since then.
There are a few cross outs, doodles and aimless lines for the next half of page.
But like, my thoughts have always been private. Why bother writing right now? Placing your thoughts were others can view them and gain insight is dumb. Shadow priests don’t keep diaries. I know that so many people keep written documents of their memories.
She tapped her pen upon the paper.
Memories, you know….places that you can go to that will warm you up inside, yet also tear you apart depending on their desire. The dangers of having others know just what you think so that they can….
The next few lines are completely blacked out. Perhaps she had written something of significance here, and became fearful that it would one day be read.
Lkjoiuoiutewlrkwejrweouoiuclkweireuowkhgsdfweori8c kjouwerc,klkjoueree sadfasdfsadfasdfsdfadsfasdfadsfadsfdsgasgjkweoriul cxkvjloweiruowere
Whatever it was, the two words that followed are:
Veltor sucks.
Then a few sketches of animals before her script begins again.
Speaking of loneliness crap, there is that stupid suggestion that you cannot love another person until you can love yourself. Self loathing is that obstacle that punches you in the face and stops you cold in your tracks. I’m really tired of watching how we all clutch at people in our desperate ways, then just hold them at arm’s length while mistrusting their intentions and disbelieving our own feelings. I think the resulting belief is that we all must be manipulating the people who show us kindness…who dare to love us…and that also goes for vice versa. Oh yeah, manipulation. Not like I haven’t heard that before.
Manipulation…..the Clandestine. Whatever.
It’s so much easier to accuse someone of manipulation then to clear oneself from the accusation. Once that stupid social label is there it remains. It’s used far more than it should be, just like anything else that is rarely understood. It’s right up there with “evil”, “hate” and “racist”, I swear to gawd.
You know, manipulation doesn’t just mean deception. Did you know that? Well I knew that! Manipulation is not so simple as that. Anyone freaking person who tells a story – either by opening their mouth or by body language - in the hope that others will accept their view point is manipulating. Cerrayn and his ridiculous and endless rants about the light, Xaraphyne’s lack of rants but presentation on being neutral and accepting of all, Khorvis’s speeches on ending the lives of the pink skins, and Syreena’s dark view of killing the young and untrained before they become such in the wars between the Alliance and the Horde. Each of them hope that we will start to think as they do, to agree with them. That’s manipulation, it’s not something attributed to one or two people – everyone is guilty. Although I will admit that some are better at it than others.
Yet, even though all are guilty of that, few are labeled with the mark. It’s a mark of disgrace that sets one apart from the rest of the crowd. Labels most certainly do make our world an easier place to understand, but it does so by sacrificing others who are unfortunate enough to have it tattooed onto their forehead with a rusty knife like, forever.
Set apart from the rest of the crowd…..Set apart. I guess I can talk about loneliness.
Two more scratched out lines, you cannot read them.
Lkjoiuoiutewlrkwejrweouoiuclkweireuowkhgsdfweori8c kjouwerc,klkjoueree sadfasdfsadfasdfsdfadsfasdfadsfadsfdsgasgjkweoriul cxkvjloweiruowere
There is no more to be read at this time. Lilliana kept the words she had written in her sketch book, and put both artwork and script into her magical satchel where it would be kept safe from prying eyes. She stayed within the confining solitude of the unknown cave hidden in the desert of Tanaris for the rest of the day until she was called to battle. She knew when she left that solitude would still find a way to follow her. It is something that she had embraced, after all.
Life had been quiet lately. Quiet in the sense that she hadn’t interacted with many of her fellow brothers and sisters in the Grim. Not to mention the other guilds. Her hand remained in the ongoing battle between Horde and Alliance, and Lilliana still found herself engaged in daily skirmishes. This was her diligent duty. However, the lack of spending time with her peers with the exception of a few recent and rather interesting outings, had put Lilliana in a place of emotional duress. She was an exceptionally social creature, and to be faced with silence on the other end always befuddled and saddened her. So, as the times forced, she decided to embrace this new solitude, for doing so had and always would be the best way to avoid loneliness.
In the darkness she had gathered herself within, resting with her back up against the rough rock wall of the inner cave. A leather bond book lay in her lap, a piece of charcoal rested upon the open pages. Faint light flickered from the edges of her violet staff, providing enough brightness from which her eyes could see. She had been sketching. As time passed she put the charcoal pieces away, and instead fetched a small pen. Her hands left smudges from the charcoal on the pages, but she proceeded to write. Her script surprisingly neat and delicate.
I don’t know if I can write about loneliness. Sometimes I think that I have right to speak on that, as I’ve long since passed beyond it in many ways. It may not seem like I have, but I have, years ago…..since Warneshi and the fight by Zul’furrak with the ones that I loved. Nothing has been the same since then.
There are a few cross outs, doodles and aimless lines for the next half of page.
But like, my thoughts have always been private. Why bother writing right now? Placing your thoughts were others can view them and gain insight is dumb. Shadow priests don’t keep diaries. I know that so many people keep written documents of their memories.
She tapped her pen upon the paper.
Memories, you know….places that you can go to that will warm you up inside, yet also tear you apart depending on their desire. The dangers of having others know just what you think so that they can….
The next few lines are completely blacked out. Perhaps she had written something of significance here, and became fearful that it would one day be read.
Lkjoiuoiutewlrkwejrweouoiuclkweireuowkhgsdfweori8c kjouwerc,klkjoueree sadfasdfsadfasdfsdfadsfasdfadsfadsfdsgasgjkweoriul cxkvjloweiruowere
Whatever it was, the two words that followed are:
Veltor sucks.
Then a few sketches of animals before her script begins again.
Speaking of loneliness crap, there is that stupid suggestion that you cannot love another person until you can love yourself. Self loathing is that obstacle that punches you in the face and stops you cold in your tracks. I’m really tired of watching how we all clutch at people in our desperate ways, then just hold them at arm’s length while mistrusting their intentions and disbelieving our own feelings. I think the resulting belief is that we all must be manipulating the people who show us kindness…who dare to love us…and that also goes for vice versa. Oh yeah, manipulation. Not like I haven’t heard that before.
Manipulation…..the Clandestine. Whatever.
It’s so much easier to accuse someone of manipulation then to clear oneself from the accusation. Once that stupid social label is there it remains. It’s used far more than it should be, just like anything else that is rarely understood. It’s right up there with “evil”, “hate” and “racist”, I swear to gawd.
You know, manipulation doesn’t just mean deception. Did you know that? Well I knew that! Manipulation is not so simple as that. Anyone freaking person who tells a story – either by opening their mouth or by body language - in the hope that others will accept their view point is manipulating. Cerrayn and his ridiculous and endless rants about the light, Xaraphyne’s lack of rants but presentation on being neutral and accepting of all, Khorvis’s speeches on ending the lives of the pink skins, and Syreena’s dark view of killing the young and untrained before they become such in the wars between the Alliance and the Horde. Each of them hope that we will start to think as they do, to agree with them. That’s manipulation, it’s not something attributed to one or two people – everyone is guilty. Although I will admit that some are better at it than others.
Yet, even though all are guilty of that, few are labeled with the mark. It’s a mark of disgrace that sets one apart from the rest of the crowd. Labels most certainly do make our world an easier place to understand, but it does so by sacrificing others who are unfortunate enough to have it tattooed onto their forehead with a rusty knife like, forever.
Set apart from the rest of the crowd…..Set apart. I guess I can talk about loneliness.
Two more scratched out lines, you cannot read them.
Lkjoiuoiutewlrkwejrweouoiuclkweireuowkhgsdfweori8c kjouwerc,klkjoueree sadfasdfsadfasdfsdfadsfasdfadsfadsfdsgasgjkweoriul cxkvjloweiruowere
There is no more to be read at this time. Lilliana kept the words she had written in her sketch book, and put both artwork and script into her magical satchel where it would be kept safe from prying eyes. She stayed within the confining solitude of the unknown cave hidden in the desert of Tanaris for the rest of the day until she was called to battle. She knew when she left that solitude would still find a way to follow her. It is something that she had embraced, after all.