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Good days, bad days

It was a day. Figment called, then came over to soak in the hot tub. We got to talking about stuff, and it turned out that a lot of weird stuff came up in discussion. This included, but was not limited to: ways to destroy the world, how to get rid of allergies, universe-hopping, mind-mapping, clergy functions, and Darkside. I wound up bawling over some of the stuff that's been stressing me out, and felt better for it afterward. I was blessed. I find it interesting that he chose the blessing of strength for me. I pledged mine to him in return, but perhaps so quietly that he only felt it rather than heard it with his ears.

It seems that I have a very scary strength of will, especially after the power boost.
It seems that I love him, he loves me, and my heart entire is still already given elsewhere. And this is as it should be. It was given before I met him, and it remains given and steadfast.

Monogamy is for the birds. Were all parties involved agreeable, I should like to be married to all three bondmates of mine. This would probably solve some troubles. However, it's probably not to be, and Bondmate #3 looks to have someone better-suited just around the corner, if indications are what I think they are.

I can't let myself hate. Hatred clogs up my heart and will kill me, quickly rather than slowly. I learned this long ago. Why did I forget?

That being as it is, I need to schedule some conferences with some allies, and then some discussions with some people. The latter discussions should involve a Nerf cluebat, or similar item, to be employed as fitting about the head and shoulders of some people in need of severe clue (and probably absolution). Whacks from the Cluebat, I can give. Absolution, I cannot. Not under these circumstances. But I might be able to manage forgiveness, if garnetdagger helps.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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