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Written By Saya

Oct. 5, 2023, 12:01 a.m.(8/27/1020 AR)

I REMEMBER WHY I HAVE A THOUSAND FEATHERS!

I am going to make a hat so full of feathers that one might be able to fly by wearing it. Yes.

Time for stitching.

Written By Saya

Oct. 4, 2023, 10:01 p.m.(8/27/1020 AR)

Buzz, buzz, buzz. Just stop with the stupid buzzing. /Ugh/.

Written By Saya

Jan. 28, 2020, 3:28 a.m.(8.762760416666666/22.714583333333337/1012.6468967013889 AR)

I. Am. SAYA.

Written By Saya

Jan. 27, 2020, 2:01 p.m.(8.723003472222222/27.488194444444446/1012.6435836226851 AR)

I have made slippers. They are the best slippers I have ever made and will ever make. I WILL NEVER MAKE ANOTHER PAIR OF SLIPPERS.

Written By Saya

Jan. 25, 2020, 4:08 a.m.(8.550774222883597/17.843356481481482/1012.6292311852403 AR)

Relationship Note on Ephrath

I see you.

Written By Saya

Jan. 25, 2020, 4:07 a.m.(8.550737020502645/17.841273148148147/1012.6292280850419 AR)

I dreamt I was running the cliffs as a young one again. I dreamt of spreading my arms wide and running as fast as I could. I dreamt that I was flying every time I ran like this. I ran, and ran, and ran. I ran to the edge, and I wanted to jump over into the waters below, but my mother became hysterical and stopped me.

I wish I had dived. Dived into the waters deep and cold and full of freedom.

Written By Saya

Jan. 10, 2020, 6:26 a.m.(7/14/1012 AR)

Relationship Note on Jaenelle

So mean! To ask a Saya if she is interested in something enough to design a pair of slippers...

Written By Saya

Jan. 3, 2020, 3:46 a.m.(6/27/1012 AR)

How many feathers can I put on one hat? Well, you know. We're going to find out. Anyone want to take bets?

Written By Saya

Jan. 1, 2020, 5:37 p.m.(6/25/1012 AR)

I DON'T LIKE SINGING. STOP. SINGING. YOUR STUPID BLACK BIRDS DON'T EVEN LIKE PENNIES.

Written By Saya

Nov. 28, 2019, 1:05 a.m.(4/11/1012 AR)

I dreamt I was small again. I dreamt I was full of courage and excitement. I dreamt of running up the cliffs with others of my age. All of us filled with glee as we ran, climbed, and scrambled up to the very top. Some lost their nerve. But not I. I screamed out with glee as I hurled myself from the cliff and into the freezing waters below. Fighting against the currents of the sea and back to shore. Too tired to go again, but with a sense of peace in my heart. Father was not pleased-- he never dived. Mother approved-- she dived, too.

I dreamt I was older. Standing on the banks of a river. Fishing with my brother. His golden hair gleaming in the sunlight. His eyes so blue it felt like looking into the sky. He was teaching me how to fish. River fish are tricky, he told me. You must be quick. For they swim faster as they follow the river currents.

Then I'm so full of sounds and thoughts and feelings and smells and it all blends to blackness, and numbness. I try to scream but my head is underwater. And everything begins to fade away into the numbness. And then I am nothing and I am full. And then there is a sharp, whistling sound and agony in my brain and I am running. Running. Running. My feet bleed and I am running still. I am not alone. We are running. Running together. But I am alone. I am empty and alone and I am everything.

I am anything.

My feet are bleeding and it is quiet.

I am anything.

Written By Saya

Nov. 28, 2019, 12:52 a.m.(4/11/1012 AR)

Relationship Note on Elisha

Were you dropped on your head a small creature? I am not certain if I should ban stupidity from the Steep as well, but at that point I wouldn't have any clientele at all.

Written By Saya

Nov. 28, 2019, 12:05 a.m.(4/11/1012 AR)

Here is a list of things not ALLOWED in the Ignoble Steep:
- Nudety
- Squirrels
- Peacocks
- Stoats

Written By Saya

Nov. 22, 2019, 2:09 a.m.(3/27/1012 AR)

I split all the colors that were in my head onto a page. Now I have no more colors. All of the colors are gone.

My head is heavy as a stone,
I am empty and alone.

Written By Saya

Sept. 2, 2018, 8:49 a.m.(7/5/1009 AR)

Relationship Note on Marian

The blood stained storm; the rain that washes away the blood.

Written By Saya

Aug. 31, 2018, 4:12 p.m.(7/2/1009 AR)

I cracked open my skull and stars fell out, glittering in a cascade of light. No buzzing, only stars.

Written By Saya

Aug. 31, 2018, 4:09 p.m.(7/2/1009 AR)

Relationship Note on Grady

Woodblooded patrons are okay.

Written By Saya

April 21, 2018, 2:09 a.m.(8/4/1008 AR)

I dreamt I was in a crowd, marching ever onward. In the dream I couldn't speak. I wanted to scream but my lips would not part, no sound would loose from my throat. I could only move forward. There was no backward, no left, no right. Only forward. No up, no down. Only forward. Forward, forward, forever. Then the crowd stopped, and unwillingly we peeled off a small group. Left now. And then there was a flash of light, and suddenly my paralysis had been lifted.

I dreamt I ran then. Fast and far. I ran until my feet bleed. I had no shoes. I wore only rags. I ran, ran, ran, ran.

Tried to find the shores of the river of my childhood, but could not. I stumbled to the edge of the Gray River. I saw the lights of the city and fled between the gates.

I woke with my feet hurting, and tears upon my face. I cried because even though I walk the banks of the Gray River, it is not my river. This is not my home. I cried because I miss my people but they are gone. Lost to the Silent War. I cried because as welcoming as the Lowers is to me...

I am a Prodigal.

Written By Saya

April 19, 2018, 3:33 p.m.(8/1/1008 AR)

I dreamt my laughter had been stolen from me. I tried to reach for it, but it was on the other side of the river. No matter how fast, or how far, I swam the banks of the river were always out of my reach. My fingers skimming over slippery rocks, nails finding no purchase. I dreamt my laughter stolen, and no one even noticed. They turned a blind eye and mocked me for my dourness. Calling me 'Giggles', for I could not smile. I dreamt I raged within my mind and no one could hear.

For they thought they were free, but they are blind and deaf.

Written By Saya

April 15, 2018, 12:14 a.m.(7/20/1008 AR)

The black rose, exquisite in her mourning.
Swathed in her silks, to look upon her is to weep.

Written By Saya

April 13, 2018, 3:43 p.m.(7/17/1008 AR)

Enjoy the sunshine, when it's there.
But chase it not, for it fades.
Soon the dark will bring despair.
All sorrows in parades.

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