835/8/1 , Flafian Fae Time
Dear Journal,
I'm writing this in the early morning as per usual.
The sun has yet to show her face;
the air still frigid and dark.
Several times has your leather bindings and aged paper placed me at ease.
A book's heftiness assures a lifetime of writing afterall.
A cup of tea, a solid desk, and a quill on my hand helps me organize my thoughts.
I'm glad that this routine of mine still persists from the bearded Axe and even up till my former life.
Shame not to pen down random thought provoking novelties.
Oh and not to mention the candle; the candle, cursed thing always goes out at the heat of writing.
You won't believe how many times it had ended abruptly, causing darkness to envelope; at least till my rummaging for a matchstick ends.
If only lamps were invented by now; that'll be nice, though I guess this will do.
It's flickering lights is somewhat interesting.
Almost tempting to touch when bored; my delicate skin disagrees.
My morning is greeted by the thought of my old man Gaius, I wonder what's he's up to.
I somehow miss him.
Wish to hug and kiss him.
Sentimental am I?
Feelings betray me this way.
And when my poor heart can't help but overflow in longing, shall I might come and visit.
It's too early now.
He probably haven't awaken yet, especially so if he had his way with his alcohol and with his old buddies.
Last I saw him, he was still complaining about his aching back.
A gesture to do him a favour.
Not that I mind.
The man's shrewdnes are his thing after all, something I like about him; making things interesting.
He said my massages does his back wonders.
Well a compliment well received, after all I did just displayed my full arsenal of elbow pressure till palm rubbing then.
I remember walking on his back; a "massage", when his muscle's frustration are at its peak.
One of the prostitute's services here includes massages, it was an eventuality that their techniques are partially passed on to me.
And I'm sure he'll be fine asking some of those fine ladies there. Or perhaps he then desires some novelties?
I think I have yet to call you a "dairy" before, now that I think about it.
But no, it has always been intentional. Perhaps I like how "journal" sounds, has a nice ring to it.
Maybe I'll consider it another day. "Dear Dairy" sounds too childish.... though it's playfulness is a redeeming quality.
Gratitude is a rare virtue, something I will always work on to strive.
Something to be thankful of, I wonder; and not to mention there's a lot to be thankful of.
Hmmm....
I did had a good rest last night, the bed was very comfortable.
Uncle John has graced me with too much feathered pillows; not someone to give a complaint though.
The soft pajamas are a bliss.
Though I do sleep au natural at times; the breeze below is pleasant.
I know I have told you this numerous times before but again I must reiterate; this whole plot development thing is anything but normal, simply surreal.
Its like as if my life was written as a bad joke.
Perhaps the previous Kami had something to do with this.
A troll of a author has made his construct.
Maybe not? Who knows?
My situation both material and social-wise has been flipped over, the disparities between the like are of the heavens and the earth.
Luckily I have the apathy and emotional detachment of a 60 year old.
An experienced mind is useful at times of change.
But having a proto- familial relationship suddenly interrupted was not a fun endeavor.
But I know for sure I have several people whom loved me and has accepted me for who I am,
no matter how much of a circumstance may change.
That alone is enough of a revelation for me.
Also in regards to my past...
I also have yet to tell Uncle John about my origin and my former self.
Should I tell him? Am I afraid? Shyness?
I don't think so.
I just didn't feel like this wasn't important enough, though I should tell him one day.
A weird sentiment that I yet; because I haven't bothered, pin down.
Father John.... I've mistaken myself again.
I always forgot to call him father.
The same mistakes; I carry to my letters...
I can't erase written ink in this world nor my former.
It's just that I still think of him as a that jolly old uncle and the name "Uncle" suits him well; it practically rolls out of the tongue.
He does not look the part though, his toned body is.... attractive? Ripe? I'm not sure! Handsome for sure!
Why am I saying these things?
Also.
Wait why does he not have a spouse already?
Perhaps he did; maybe, but I simply haven't had the courage to ask.
I might turn to the reliably unreliable old woman's gossips; if my curiosity isn't quenched.
Ahhh...
I should learn to call him father, it's the more proper way of addressing him.
Thankfully I did grew inside of me a reverence to Father John, some time spared to think before addressing.
Father John.... Why is it so hard to commit your name to habit?
Funny niche.
Also... to end in a interesting note...
I'll be going to school soon.
When?
I don't know.
But I hope soon enough.
Even I'm brim with anticipation
But for now, I'll rest my pen here.
To my beloved journal.
Write you soon.
With Love and Passion,
Niizuma Shiiori,
Takashi Maeda.
~Sela~
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
By : Joshua J. Kusuma
November 24th, 2020
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's note :
I'm starting to adjust to college life though the pandemic, so it might be a short burst of updates, considering the short holiday. This is meant as a prelude as I'm still working on more content behind the scenes. But till then, hope you guys have a wonderful day.