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Look at the Stars and You're Gone

Lovliness is Most Inspired by Pain.

Name:
Satal de Rihannsu
Birthdate:
24 November 1984
External Services:
  • satal@livejournal.com
  • satalderihannsu AIM status
Schools:
Bio? Damn... I am a composite of my interests. Yeah, that's right, keep scrolling. Mostly, though, I am a soul-bruised banshee of banality who is obsessed with the oft-found but rarely seen Beauty in all things. I am a freak, but benignly so. I am dark, and light (to throw in a boring cliche), and I am all things known and unseen. I am a socialist anarchist, and I mean it.

*******

The above was written a very long time ago. A very short time ago. When I was younger, my eternal goal was naught but knowledge, a Vulcan-like determination to be whole and solo in a pristine, cold desire for perfection.

My life then did what life does best, and chewed my plans and spit them out. Despite my insanely high intelligence, I quit college and moved in with my mate without the best of logic. Abuse, insanity, drama, and pain ensued.

I tried to find happiness and education by moving out on my own, or rather, with my lover. I tried desperately to build enough money and stability to return to school, but only found myself on constant edges of poverty. I worked in a bottom end job, scrubbing toilets every day at a college, full of jealousy and hatred every day for the perceived injustice of those so far less worthy than myself being handed what I so desperately wanted. Instead, I continued to slave and rot from the soul, learning the greatest level of humility and experiencing the most rending brain-drain conceivable.

I was trapped in a constant cycle of poverty and stupidity. Pain, pain, pain.

As of now, I have escaped that particular agony. My family shwooped in with money and support, too disgusted to see me in such a position. They are mad, and cruel in many ways... and yet I know they love me. And I am thankful to return to school, no matter how I must do so. If it means being outwardly endless in thanks, then so be it. At the very least I move forward.

So who am I now? After two years of slaving and unsuccess, who am I now?

Whereas I was once full of confidence and conceit, I am now weakened, blinded, and still conceited. I am rediscovering my intelligence, albeit with holes and lacks. I once had integrity of a paladin level of honour -- now I am a thief, and full of cynicism.

I have changed so much, and I seem to be in mourning for myself. Yet I have the greatest of hope...

So much hope my soul burns inside me.

***

Wow, and THAT was written a long time ago. I've improved a great deal since that time capsule of hatred. I'm about to move on to a full four-year university (VCU), have pounded out a few issues with my loved one, semi-started a semi-successful small art business, and generally become a much happier person. I am less emo than I've ever been, and I think I've finally shaken off the teenager dregs of awful. So, here I am, with a new sense of self to chronicle.

Now I again call myself a paladin, crusading for the right, the good, the just, and the hopeful. I wish to polish my rusted armour and succeed at loving life once again.

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