A night of thanks and appreciation.

Wearing that pair of dirty old leather loafers had at the very least pruned away at least half of my ego. I guess that's what it is, self-confidence, something that cannot be actually conferred unto by others but must in fact originate from oneself. To feel confident is to feel good about yourself, and tonight, HAHA I sure fucking did.

But I couldn’t help but wonder if this was enough; if I could actually be capable of achieving more than this meagre sum I had on my platter, if I could at least soar high enough to claw at the clouds.

Nonetheless, the walk to collect my certificate had me shake with trepidation and anxiety. Maybe it was the shoes I thought. Ugly shoe would evidently result in shame and humiliation. But alas, the epiphanic moment hit me when my mind was taking a short but necessary respite just before my body hyper-ventilated and the neuron-circuitries began shutting down itself. Yes, the problem had all along been about......

:) To say for the very least, I was, am and still very satisfied with myself.

***

And of course, it goes without saying how fucking beautiful you were tonight~

-Zarae.NightOfAppraisel.

Judas

I was literally hopping with anger when I saw your name on that little white piece of paper. I saw how you were being "rewarded" with the fruits of other people's labour. You, and your sorry excuse of a captain have made me wonder if so much "accomplishments" could be so fucking easily achieved just by backstabbing and betraying.

The lies and tales you spin round and round me. I took you to be a friend. Someone who had the same dreams and goals I had. Turns out you were just using me. You actually managed to use me. Wow. I'm both amazed and disgusted; seeing that I just puked in my own mouth and swallowed it again. Gruesome, but I guess I truly deserved it all. You not only hurt me but you also managed to hurt one of my dearest friends. But after we saw through your deceptive lies, the both of us just can't help but pity you. For what we saw, was nothing but a small man with an even more pretentious and vulgar set of disposition. You are a fool, that's what you are.

So here I am and here I say. Fuck off Iscariot and take your god-forsaken mutinous soul with you.

-Zarae.Amin feuya ten' lle.YouDisgustMe

Shrouded Faces.

All of us have different and numerous masks in which we wear on a daily basis. With some of us doing more so than others. (Fucking backstabbers) And of course we have the retards that just wear everything on their faces, indulging in their own idiotic notions and ideas, not sympathethic to the feelings of others at all.

Yes. There are definitely more than one side to all our personalities. Masks we so often wear becomes what others make of us yet may not really reflect the reality of who we actually are.

***

Tears are often hidden behind smiles,
Just as laughter hides the knife.
The knife that is soon to be plunged into your back.

This week, I'm BlackHeart.

-Zarae.Heartless

Tugging the lion's mane.

Someday I swear, my pride would be my ultimate downfall. And I highly doubt people really understands what pride is to me. If you insult my pride then you had better be prepared to suffer the consequences or... Have a really good pacifying plan.

Perhaps I've really been spoilt to the bones, with material comforts and servants, heck... My whole life have been a giant fairytale, with me being the prince of course. With all the inflated ego and attention given to me; and the oppressed teenage-hood I had further aggravating this problem. Even now, I'm still that naive kid.

Hubris. Once again. My fatal flaw, my achilles heel if you will. My bane and my kryptonite.

***

Lesson learnt. You can never ever ever rely on anyone. You can trust people with all your heart but if you really want things done, you just have to DO IT YOURSELF. 

The sun is shining just as brightly as yesterday which just fucking pisses me off.

Zarae.HubrisAgain.

Short story

'Boom!' The earth around exploded as dirt splattered everywhere. A massive sapphire hand had cratered the ground, the exact spot where the injured Prince was a split second ago. Before the dust clouds could begin to settle, the blue giant regained its fury of assault; flailing its monstrous arm around, every attack inching closer to clipping the Prince.

Marvellous creature this golem. The Prince thought to himself as he admired the cerulean exterior of the creature. The golem was a towering fifteen feet behemoth of pure mineral, undoubtly of sapphire origins as it gave the colossal brute an unnatural azure shine. It was somewhat humanoid in nature, taking the frame of a well built barbarian and despite its size, the Prince soon realised that it was supernaturally quick and amazingly flexible. He shielded himself just in time as a mammoth punch slammed into him. He felt as though the weight of the world had smashed against him, sending him flying for at least half a league and knocking the wind out of him.

Performing a back flip in mid-air, the disorientated Prince was able to land on his feet, skidding some distance along the sandy ground. He was acutely nimble his whole life being part Slyvian but he knew it was going to take him every ounce of Imprerium blood, the other half of his ancestry; that he could muster to slay the wretched golem.

That was close. He thought to himself as he unsheathed the silver dirk he carried with him at all times. N'hrive or Neverwinter as it was called. The passing of ancient blades have always been the tradition of the Slyvian elves just as Imperiuems pass down their regalia and in the Prince’s case, the Domeduathea. NightMask. Both pieces he owned, Regalia and Dirk were not just prized trophies within the families, but in fact legendary artefacts that had their fair share of combat in the darker times. One mind, any weapon, recalling the words of his father.

Flexibility masters hardness, the Prince muttered to himself as he began preparing himself. He steadied his breathing, shifting the weight of his body, priming himself as the enormous monstrosity charged once more as though impervious to the call of fatigue.

Neverwinter glistened in the sun, making as though the Prince wielded a ball of wispy slivery light in his right hand. The golem, a monument of sapphire blue rampaged forward, a wrecking ball promising banal carnage and cataclysmic Armageddon.

-Zarae.

Spoilt brat

For once in a very long time, I found myself exceptionally broke. Left beggared and humbled much. The incident yesterday brought to my attention that I, with much regret to say, have been spoilt rotten to the bones. This sudden epiphany smacked me right in the face. I cannot live without money, more so than every other person. The addiction with material goods has left me... well, dependant and compulsively hooked. The fanatism that accompanies the inability to spend has drained me physically like some form of real ailment. The malady leaves me irritated and frustrated, very much to my dismay.

Progress in my academic studies has been slowed. Procrastination being one of the main forms of impeding forces; physical exhaustion from games and lack of motivation also, just to name a few more. This miasma of tardiness and lethargy has definitely posed itself as one of the more troublesome matters at hand.

Sigh... I just need more time. Yes. More time. About 150 years would do.

***
Jar of hearts. To be played gently in the background when my eulogy is to be read. If ever.

-Zarae.Ithil'quessir
Anarya.Yavannie