percivalthegale (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
percivalthegale) wrote2009-03-31 12:56 am
percivalthegale) wrote2009-03-31 12:56 am
Private frustrations
Well, at least it's not nightmares keeping me awake. I simply can't sleep tonight, and Borus is mumbling in his sleep. The scratching of the pen shouldn't disturb him, so perhaps I will write a bit to sort my thoughts, until I'm tired enough.
I think I have found a match for Borus in the holding-one's-liquor department. Seed is...quite interesting. He would rib me for saying so, but I don't know how else to describe him. In the course of one day, we groomed Midnight together, fought, drank, sang, and completely failed to understand each other. I don't quite know what to think of him. On the one hand, he could be a good friend. On the other, I think we're far too different to ever really know. He has a passion that I can only dream of having, but I also think that passion blinds him to reality. I don't understand him, and that makes me want to try even more, yet I can see myself becoming frustrated with him easily. We are alike and yet not. At least we have a shared appreciation for the sword, horses, and drink, which could be enough to just...enjoy a casual friendship, I suppose.
Yet, why does he keep having to needle me about my...my self? I don't think it's bad to prefer peace to war, nor do I think my life needs excitement. He's young, perhaps he'll learn someday. If he can ever get over the fact that his country is part of Dunan now. I doubt that happening, ever. The poor man. Something obviously bothers him, so what does he do? Bother me about my own problems. Honestly. I prefer the way Borus deals with me...leaving me be when I ask.
Poor Borus. He's come to some conclusions but it appears he can't bring himself to let go. I feel for his situation...it's the reverse of my own, but the nagging feelings are almost the same.
I really wish people would be less concerned about me. Ironic, isn't it? Most, I think, would journal about how no one cares about them, and here I am complaining that some care too much. Or rather, I don't know that they care at all so much as they're nosy and curious and find my behavior interesting. Kinnison at least was honest about his reasons for speaking to me. But I can't fathom why everyone has this belief that there is something underlying any of my actions or decisions. Something which they undoubtedly feel the pressing need to get to the bottom of. I don't think it's all that unusual that a gentleman of my upbringing should be bothered by risque behavior in the baths! Or that anything I do is done with ulterior motives. I must go riding with Kathy again, she never bothers me about these types of things. She and I simply ride for the joy of it, leaving our troubles behind for the time being. Not that I begrudge Troy his queries, when we rode...he and I hadn't spoken in a while, so I needed to catch him up on some things.
I think, the way things have been going, that I'm glad I withdrew from Queen's game and left the castle for a while. Not that the trip itself was entirely life-changing, but I really believe the last thing I need right now is to even be on friendly dates, or having anything to do with romantic pursuits. Unfortunately, that means talking to Kathy about it, and I don't relish that conversation at all. But...I have had many long days of solitary patrol to think, and I've concluded that I must be without any attachment at all. Friends don't count. I will still spend time with them, and perhaps work harder at cultivating my friendships with both old and new acquaintances. Anything else...is not for me right now. I don't have to necessarily proclaim it, but Percival the Swordsman of Gale will be Percival the Chaste. There is no one here for me, anyway. Kathy is...too different, I think. She is the first woman about whom I can honestly say, I would not want to ruin the friendship.
It is frustrating, though, that every time I reach a moment of peace with myself, someone has to go and butt into my business, insinuate, prod, and otherwise completely ruin that peace. I had felt like things were getting back on track, and then Seed had to go and insinuate...all kinds of things. He hit too close to a mark, though, leaving me in doubt again. The one thing I admire about him is that he is firm in his convictions. I wish I either loved or hated something as clearly and unswervingly as he does. Perhaps his reasoning...is why I failed to defeat the Lizard champion. Not because I am that much weaker than a Lizard Clan warrior, but because I did not have my heart in the fight. I had no great reason to either win or lose, I didn't care. Perhaps...perhaps I need a bigger challenge. Perhaps there is something else I can do to press myself to find...my heart.
And yet...there are nights I wonder if I was meant to die on the battlefield last winter, and because I didn't...I am like a ghost, wandering the world living half a life. Or maybe it is simply that...I don't belong here, where people can be content with simple lives, with food and a hot bath and some drink or silly games, and never question their existence or their faith because they simply are. Either way...such thoughts make me sad. And a little delirious, although that might be the flicker of candlelight across the ink and paper. My eyes are beginning to bother me and my mood is darkening, I think that means it's time I slept.
If only Borus would stop dreaming about...whatever it is he's dreaming about. I don't think I want to listen close enough to his murmuring to find out.
I think I have found a match for Borus in the holding-one's-liquor department. Seed is...quite interesting. He would rib me for saying so, but I don't know how else to describe him. In the course of one day, we groomed Midnight together, fought, drank, sang, and completely failed to understand each other. I don't quite know what to think of him. On the one hand, he could be a good friend. On the other, I think we're far too different to ever really know. He has a passion that I can only dream of having, but I also think that passion blinds him to reality. I don't understand him, and that makes me want to try even more, yet I can see myself becoming frustrated with him easily. We are alike and yet not. At least we have a shared appreciation for the sword, horses, and drink, which could be enough to just...enjoy a casual friendship, I suppose.
Yet, why does he keep having to needle me about my...my self? I don't think it's bad to prefer peace to war, nor do I think my life needs excitement. He's young, perhaps he'll learn someday. If he can ever get over the fact that his country is part of Dunan now. I doubt that happening, ever. The poor man. Something obviously bothers him, so what does he do? Bother me about my own problems. Honestly. I prefer the way Borus deals with me...leaving me be when I ask.
Poor Borus. He's come to some conclusions but it appears he can't bring himself to let go. I feel for his situation...it's the reverse of my own, but the nagging feelings are almost the same.
I really wish people would be less concerned about me. Ironic, isn't it? Most, I think, would journal about how no one cares about them, and here I am complaining that some care too much. Or rather, I don't know that they care at all so much as they're nosy and curious and find my behavior interesting. Kinnison at least was honest about his reasons for speaking to me. But I can't fathom why everyone has this belief that there is something underlying any of my actions or decisions. Something which they undoubtedly feel the pressing need to get to the bottom of. I don't think it's all that unusual that a gentleman of my upbringing should be bothered by risque behavior in the baths! Or that anything I do is done with ulterior motives. I must go riding with Kathy again, she never bothers me about these types of things. She and I simply ride for the joy of it, leaving our troubles behind for the time being. Not that I begrudge Troy his queries, when we rode...he and I hadn't spoken in a while, so I needed to catch him up on some things.
I think, the way things have been going, that I'm glad I withdrew from Queen's game and left the castle for a while. Not that the trip itself was entirely life-changing, but I really believe the last thing I need right now is to even be on friendly dates, or having anything to do with romantic pursuits. Unfortunately, that means talking to Kathy about it, and I don't relish that conversation at all. But...I have had many long days of solitary patrol to think, and I've concluded that I must be without any attachment at all. Friends don't count. I will still spend time with them, and perhaps work harder at cultivating my friendships with both old and new acquaintances. Anything else...is not for me right now. I don't have to necessarily proclaim it, but Percival the Swordsman of Gale will be Percival the Chaste. There is no one here for me, anyway. Kathy is...too different, I think. She is the first woman about whom I can honestly say, I would not want to ruin the friendship.
It is frustrating, though, that every time I reach a moment of peace with myself, someone has to go and butt into my business, insinuate, prod, and otherwise completely ruin that peace. I had felt like things were getting back on track, and then Seed had to go and insinuate...all kinds of things. He hit too close to a mark, though, leaving me in doubt again. The one thing I admire about him is that he is firm in his convictions. I wish I either loved or hated something as clearly and unswervingly as he does. Perhaps his reasoning...is why I failed to defeat the Lizard champion. Not because I am that much weaker than a Lizard Clan warrior, but because I did not have my heart in the fight. I had no great reason to either win or lose, I didn't care. Perhaps...perhaps I need a bigger challenge. Perhaps there is something else I can do to press myself to find...my heart.
And yet...there are nights I wonder if I was meant to die on the battlefield last winter, and because I didn't...I am like a ghost, wandering the world living half a life. Or maybe it is simply that...I don't belong here, where people can be content with simple lives, with food and a hot bath and some drink or silly games, and never question their existence or their faith because they simply are. Either way...such thoughts make me sad. And a little delirious, although that might be the flicker of candlelight across the ink and paper. My eyes are beginning to bother me and my mood is darkening, I think that means it's time I slept.
If only Borus would stop dreaming about...whatever it is he's dreaming about. I don't think I want to listen close enough to his murmuring to find out.