Written By Angelo
Dec. 8, 2021, 12:59 a.m.(9/15/1016 AR)
When I pause and seek to listen,
To that voice that is deep inside.
My search often finds only silence,
As if intuition has abandoned and died.
This moves me to sounds I observe,
With perception that is experienced and real.
While exercising any lack of emotion,
Where the technical outweighs any feel.
Now I realize the empirical shortfalls,
are rarely guided by any moral debate.
Yet the need is both complex and basic,
So that we sense a value, between love and hate.
To that voice that is deep inside.
My search often finds only silence,
As if intuition has abandoned and died.
This moves me to sounds I observe,
With perception that is experienced and real.
While exercising any lack of emotion,
Where the technical outweighs any feel.
Now I realize the empirical shortfalls,
are rarely guided by any moral debate.
Yet the need is both complex and basic,
So that we sense a value, between love and hate.
Written By Angelo
Dec. 8, 2021, 12:38 a.m.(9/15/1016 AR)
You may think he is weird.
You may think she is odd.
Look deeper than the skin and see something you do not know, something you never thought of.
People are all different, finding different ways to heal.
People are all different, with unique ways to feel.
You may have a full heart ready and able to give love.
You may have a generous mind always seeking to feel love.
But some minds and hearts do not have the range of what you can receive or give.
Exposed and beaten by life, a life you would not want to live.
Some hearts and minds have holes inside where nothing can get through.
Some hearts and minds are broken and there is little you can say or do.
Listen to their pain and sorrow and listen to them too. Do not judge a broken heart or mind because that is the worst thing you can do.
You may think she is odd.
Look deeper than the skin and see something you do not know, something you never thought of.
People are all different, finding different ways to heal.
People are all different, with unique ways to feel.
You may have a full heart ready and able to give love.
You may have a generous mind always seeking to feel love.
But some minds and hearts do not have the range of what you can receive or give.
Exposed and beaten by life, a life you would not want to live.
Some hearts and minds have holes inside where nothing can get through.
Some hearts and minds are broken and there is little you can say or do.
Listen to their pain and sorrow and listen to them too. Do not judge a broken heart or mind because that is the worst thing you can do.
Written By Angelo
Dec. 5, 2021, 2:27 a.m.(9/9/1016 AR)
An aquamarine waterfall of feelings descend from the innermost corner of my heart
unfolding the deepest thoughts, the loving thoughts, the glorious thoughts, the gloomiest thoughts
childhood memories float in tiny rainbow paper boats
dance on the softest petals of petite flowers emanating perfumes of sense-robbing mixed scents
serenade me away to the forest of dreams in a playful swing of my coral passions
weaving the tapestry of mysterious stories depicting eternal melody of love and loss
I am a Nightingale
singing a song of lavender dreams and hopes, under an ultramarine canvas blending turquoise sky and sapphire ocean
twilight moon flickering ribbons of love
my audience - the pearlescent clouds, gleaming stars, souls with a poetic heart!
I write for myself
I write for you
I write for the future generations to come.
My story is their story, my life is their life
The vermilion sky at dawn kindle an inspiration in me,
So do the gossamer rays of crimson twilight
humming river, cadence of ocean-waves, snow-capped mountain-peaks
Twittering birds, twinkling stars
History of human race, struggles and victories.
unfolding the deepest thoughts, the loving thoughts, the glorious thoughts, the gloomiest thoughts
childhood memories float in tiny rainbow paper boats
dance on the softest petals of petite flowers emanating perfumes of sense-robbing mixed scents
serenade me away to the forest of dreams in a playful swing of my coral passions
weaving the tapestry of mysterious stories depicting eternal melody of love and loss
I am a Nightingale
singing a song of lavender dreams and hopes, under an ultramarine canvas blending turquoise sky and sapphire ocean
twilight moon flickering ribbons of love
my audience - the pearlescent clouds, gleaming stars, souls with a poetic heart!
I write for myself
I write for you
I write for the future generations to come.
My story is their story, my life is their life
The vermilion sky at dawn kindle an inspiration in me,
So do the gossamer rays of crimson twilight
humming river, cadence of ocean-waves, snow-capped mountain-peaks
Twittering birds, twinkling stars
History of human race, struggles and victories.
Written By Angelo
Dec. 1, 2021, 10:18 a.m.(9/2/1016 AR)
Build an estate and leave the city! That's a sound idea. Procastination never works in my favor and yet here I am. A part of me wonders why I furnish beyond the base necessities. It's not like I have people over.
Written By Angelo
Dec. 1, 2021, 10:17 a.m.(9/2/1016 AR)
Forgive me Leo, it appears I must hire a small army to tidy up the Estate I've built. Why I built this and left it to accumulate dust is beyond me!
Written By Angelo
May 4, 2021, 12:25 a.m.(5/28/1015 AR)
Finally, I get to glimpse the construction of the Estate that my valet Jason had been tasked to plan back in Tor. I wanted to spend more time in Arx and having some real estate of my own was part of my plans to bring this to fruition.
This is far better than I had expected, positioned in such a beautiful area of the city that I must say I have no regrets.
This is far better than I had expected, positioned in such a beautiful area of the city that I must say I have no regrets.
Written By Angelo
May 3, 2021, 12:43 a.m.(5/26/1015 AR)
Relationship Note on Esme
My cousin Esme was quite welcoming when I met her at the Ambassador Salon today. It was good to see some of my family in Arx again.
Written By Angelo
May 3, 2021, 12:39 a.m.(5/26/1015 AR)
Relationship Note on Esme
Welcoming Cousin
Written By Angelo
Jan. 20, 2019, 2:17 a.m.(6/3/1010 AR)
Much enthusiastic gratitude to Lady Ysbail Blackwood and Vala Khanne Halfshav for their most patient ability to suffer my barrage of questions earlier. Wonderful people, the both of them.
Written By Angelo
Jan. 20, 2019, 2:15 a.m.(6/3/1010 AR)
It's a pity they won't simply let us choose 'none of the above'.
Written By Angelo
Jan. 13, 2019, 11:11 p.m.(5/9/1010 AR)
It's quite good to be back in the city, although the level of misfortune I read of in the whites makes me wonder how long I'll think that.
Written By Angelo
May 31, 2018, 7:09 p.m.(11/21/1008 AR)
From southern climes returned, to a Journal more dust and moth-eaten parchment than heartfelt thought. Overdue, this opportunity to reflect in the form of words upon the page -- in similar fashion I reflected upon myself, mirrored in reverse -- at the Shrine. A question of calling. Some are called to serve their Houses. Some called to serve the Faith. Others to serve the Crown. Yes, I have been thinking. To these latter concepts, I ask myself what I am willing to sacrifice in my life in order to follow my call. A calling to discover, inscribed upon my nature and hidden. The one to bring me fulfillment.
Written By Angelo
May 15, 2017, 6:13 p.m.(6/20/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Grazia
In the sun you are golden, glowing. Your shine seems immune to any outside attempt to dim it. You simply burn. In your riding clothes and tangled hair you couldn't be more than perfect to me, that first impression made. Sweet strawberries, easy conversation over glasses of sherry. The world up until that luncheon seemed ambiguous, austere. Everything is beginning to shimmer again. Every moment of this courtship you will understand my gratitude. In every gift, you will know my intention.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Written By Angelo
May 14, 2017, 10:52 p.m.(6/18/1006 AR)
I almost bumped into a woman exiting a tailor's shop on Thrax Row.
What I recall of her: arms filled with parcels, brandywine eyes, the dip of her head with warm brown hair, and a crooked smile. All of the presence of royalty, even if we were about to collide because the turn of her heel was sharp and purposeful.
Who are you?
What I recall of her: arms filled with parcels, brandywine eyes, the dip of her head with warm brown hair, and a crooked smile. All of the presence of royalty, even if we were about to collide because the turn of her heel was sharp and purposeful.
Who are you?
Written By Angelo
May 14, 2017, 12:06 p.m.(6/17/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Valencia
Princess, beneath the glinting yellow quartz eyes of the fox mask, was me. Honestly, it was a comfort to assume the role of the creature the mask was fashioned of: clever, confident. All adjectives that I would have used to describe aspects of my own personality once before.
With my ego weighed down, I would apply those descriptions to you. Now.
A gentle soul, a joyous laugh, your heart a blooming rose for the want to help everyone.
With my ego weighed down, I would apply those descriptions to you. Now.
A gentle soul, a joyous laugh, your heart a blooming rose for the want to help everyone.
Written By Angelo
May 14, 2017, 11:56 a.m.(6/17/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Selene
As suspected, she is every bit as brilliant as my cousin, and the overwhelming the general consensus, said she was. Her moods were plum roses and cool blue morning sky. It broke the monotony of the day. She offered conversation that bolstered my spirit while we took an ambulatory exploration around the Reflection Square's still pools and gardens.
A force of nature.
A phrase better applied to the Radiant, truth, than the compliment that she offered me.
A force of nature.
A phrase better applied to the Radiant, truth, than the compliment that she offered me.
Written By Angelo
May 11, 2017, 10:29 p.m.(6/12/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Juliet
She understands me in a way that leaves me to wonder if she has tread a similar path on the way to actualization: the achievement of one's full potential through independence, empathy, and a grasp of the world.
Written By Angelo
May 11, 2017, 2:39 p.m.(6/11/1006 AR)
Languishing has a certain appeal.
There is too much time for introspection, and the transition from hermitage to the rich complexities of life outside of the villa has proved exacting. I feel as minute as any insect beneath a magnifying lens, under the unforgiving scrutiny of the Lyceum, and the fear of being compared ceaselessly to the impossible standards my cousins present. At first, it was a great condescension to leave my suite. I persisted. I walked through the streets. I made purchases. Living as I had for months with my own dread of further saying or doing the wrong thing, I was surprised to find that those whispers - those unwanted thoughts - were silenced.
At least for a time.
There is too much time for introspection, and the transition from hermitage to the rich complexities of life outside of the villa has proved exacting. I feel as minute as any insect beneath a magnifying lens, under the unforgiving scrutiny of the Lyceum, and the fear of being compared ceaselessly to the impossible standards my cousins present. At first, it was a great condescension to leave my suite. I persisted. I walked through the streets. I made purchases. Living as I had for months with my own dread of further saying or doing the wrong thing, I was surprised to find that those whispers - those unwanted thoughts - were silenced.
At least for a time.
Written By Angelo
May 8, 2017, 2:05 p.m.(6/5/1006 AR)
Time has not abandoned me, nor has this city -- but I have stepped away from both -- not out of neglect for either the tremulous, tenuous topic of time. Nor for the chaos of the city that has plunged itself down to the depths of despair, death hanging over our heads like a swaying pendulum, and back from it again. Into the breech once more. Out into the city are my uncertain steps, growing sure with every tick of the shadows along the floorboards. Every flick of my eyes as I catch my reflection as I meditate in Tehom's name upon my darker nature.
I emerge with more awareness. I acknowledge myself. In doing so, I become less frangible. I become the gold that seams the edges of cracked porcelain.
Beautifully flawed, made stronger through the destruction. Illuminated, not disguised.
I emerge with more awareness. I acknowledge myself. In doing so, I become less frangible. I become the gold that seams the edges of cracked porcelain.
Beautifully flawed, made stronger through the destruction. Illuminated, not disguised.
Written By Angelo
Jan. 30, 2017, 4:01 p.m.(10/20/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Leo
My cousin brought me from Tor to become a Voice of the Compact, and while at first glance the decision felt petty, bothersome and useless, I came to learn that it might have been the best decision I never took for myself. I miss Duke Leo and I don't lose hope that he will be found, that what ever is going on will not end in another tragedy.
I won't lose hope.
I won't lose hope.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.