Saturday, November 30, 2013

Of darkened thresholds

 Something has just been stolen from me.

Though there ain't no wars like last year, boy I'm deepened in troubles again. Not being dominated by dark feelings, but I am now just out of positive ones. My flames are scattered, without resources, without approval. Vesta seemed to have traded Áine's position in the parlament for Raseri's. My insides are infested with greed, mediocrity, jealousy and selfishness. And I am but just accepting this, because there are no more flames inside me to fight them. Raseri is rising, and Vesta is watching Ilium falling in a dark economical period because of his political choices. She tried to warn him, but he wouldn't hear.

The waning of my flames is making me feel like my old self before I had myself enrolled in this mission. Unmotivated and powerless, without having anything to offer. Routes of trade are wearing off, and the isolation of the city is making it lose touch with the rest of the world. That would mean Raseri losing his throne to Ushag, who's eager to invade Ilium, whose walls are growing weaker by the day.

These are those sad moments when we feel we just don't care. And then we start noticing we don't even care about not caring. And I don't know how I am supposed to handle that. Suffering is a sign that things aren't going well, but at least that still shows some attachment. But this... this is a sign the end is too nigh.

This is but a feeling of suspension. This is just a transition, for I know I can't sustain myself in this state for too long. The flames are united in a small room, and between them the air is filled with fear and doubt, but Ilium has seen worst days. Either every dream of mine is over, or then I'll use this crisis to go through another death, another renovating death. And the blackest of deaths hitherto meant being followed by the highest flights.

And thus I stand in the threshold for a possible new self. These demands from life are forcing me to be more than what I am. I guess I had it wrong it would be easier to write or create as time went by, as it is obviously getting every time harder. Life is forcing me to recover so much of what I've lost and still losing. But I don't want my souvenirs and sculptures falling behind on the road. I can't let Ilium to fall like this. All my sensitivity to ideas, all the reddened enthusiasm I used to have are but so faint now, but this is another decisive moment of truth...

The drums roll...

Raseri called the Fire Ensemble for a council meeting.

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