Sep. 22nd, 2009

torchthemoons: (burn the schools)
[Filter: Private, in Atsirian]

How strange.

Last year, this day was used for gathering intelligence. I plumbed Karlesta for every last drop she had, and that knowledge served Westa and I well. I was contributing, I was busy, and I was ... distracted.

Very distracted.

This forced stillness, this ... quiet. There are certainly no distractions this year, even when I go out of my way to look for them, and ... it does make the mind wander.

I can't understand those who say that memories of the dead are a comfort. I think I'd give almost anything to be rid of mine.

[Filter: Public, in Atsirian]

Ahah, well, I really must admit, this is hardly the most glamorous Festival of Leaves I've ever spent. On the contrary, it's windy, dusty, sandy, dry, and hot. Ah, and sparse, as well. Not a single gift or much attention from my guides, bless them. My gift to them is leaving them all alone, and from the grateful looks I've gotten, that seems to be exactly what they'd asked for.

No matter. I suppose everyone must have at least one absolutely terrible Festival of Leaves in their lifetimes, and I'm glad to get mine over with sooner rather than later. I'll just spend the afternoon in my tent, I think, reading some of these scripts I brought from Cleraine, now that I have a moment to spare.

Ahah, I've caught myself wondering of late how the theatrical community will take the loss of my reviews. Well, no doubt. Of course, that may be inflating myself overmuch. I suppose every critic thinks that directors fear them.

Either way, a very happy Festival to my future colleagues in Razen, and, of course, to my friends and remaining family back in Cleraine. All the best, and I do hope you're having a much nicer day that I am.

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Joseph

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