Troubled

Adham ap Otis

Why not a stranger? Why not there? Why not now? I needed to channel my anger some way.

Puppets! Masked puppets dancing in the most common of ways. Oh compassion, boo-hoo, oh - joy! Oh, poetry, LOVE! It makes me sick, physically ill almost. An odd sensation fills the pit of my stomach when I go through it in my mind. It was fun, really, making them dance, pulling their strings. If I had spouted just a few stanzas, she would have gotten in bed with me, she would've been at my beck and call.

Fun and sickening at the same time.

Is this life? The pointless dances, the conforming movements? Father would have me believe so. Sister makes it seem so - and is everyone the same, or are all the interesting people just hiding underground so that they aren't killed by the ignorant masses? Better they hide underground. There are demons and Vek all around up here, or so everyone says. It makes me wonder why father would forbid me from the forests and the road. He's so fearful, yet he has complete faith in society and the guard. Just another fool, another puppet.

That man, that man at the end ruined it. Ruined it completely. I was out of words to shoot at him - he was simply that overbearingly stupid in the way he approached. Arrogant, high and mighty. Maybe next time, maybe next time.

I'm shaking with the joy, or is this anger? Adrenaline?

Am I going crazy?

26th, End of Spring, 1087