It's a rather quaint town when you get down to it. At least, that's what the Sheriff would argue. Warm and dry in the mornings and afternoons with a brisk coolness in the evenings. The perfect type of weather to just sit out on your rocking chair and observe the comings and goings.
... Of course, there's not much in the way of comings and goings when there aren't any actual people here to watch. Nevertheless, don't let that get you down! The town is your oyster and those roosters won't stop crowing until everyone's out of bed. Up and at 'em, rise and shine, it's time to make the day yours!
After all, there's nothing wrong with the town today and you might just want to savor it while it lasts.
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I'm sure you're surprised to hear from me. I'm surprised to be in a position to be writing. But there are more mysteries in this place than you or I could ever have guessed. My time in the world we know may be ended, but I still have time. Certain hardships are not escapeable. It's a sad truth, I'm afraid, but one we all must accept. Would that I could truly speak to you, but I'm afraid this is the only way to make my words heard. What a miracle, that the voiceless can still speak! I thought I'd lost my chance to communicate with you ever again.
I wanted very much to thank you. For everything, not just that night you found me. I'm sorry we had so little time to get to know one another, your company made this hellish month bearable. I consider you my first friend, or at least the first person I've called 'friend' and meant something by it. I once read that only silence is a true friend, but I don't believe that any longer. You've given me pleasant things to remember, and I hope you know that. Though I must admit in truth, it's the quiet moments I find myself thinking of most. I hope you can understand what I'm trying to impart to you. These things don't come easily to me. There are words of the head and words of the heart, as it's been said, and I am far more well versed in the former. I've never been one to act on my heart, to let my emotions dictate my actions. People can do such unbelievable and foolish things, when they allow their emotions and feelings to override good sense and decency. Perhaps in that sense I'm lucky. I've known no great love, never found myself tangled so deeply with anyone else. I think it would make everything the harder, had I. I did feel the start of it, once. But it led to ruin and death and a loss of any hope I had for a life of my own even so. I did terrible things, driven by this emotion. It's hardly a unique story, but one I feel the need to share with you while I can. I think I had been ready to give up, before all of this. I am not ready to give up now.
I fear I'm stumbling with my words, but I suppose there are simply some things that cannot be said. Some things can't even be written, they defy words. The face is the mirror of the mind, the eyes without speaking confess the secrets of the heart. Some saint said that, I think. I find it easier to use others' words, when expressing myself. Sometimes it's the only way one can express themselves, like this. But I put pen to paper in the deepest hope that my words truly find you.
Be careful. I would like to see you survive this madness, and fair far better than I. I wish I could give you some help, some advice, but I'm sure you know that anything I wrote pertaining to the game would never make it to you. It's a challenge, choosing what to say and what to take out. Do I take out the longing, the love, the grave ennui? That's the challenge. I'd say more, but... We can't have a nice easy...anything. I hope that this serves instead. Just keep in mind that threats can come from the most unlikely places.
I also hope...something was said for me. I was always told I would die alone and forgotten, and no one would be there to speak at my grave. I have long feared no one would say a word when I died. Don't let it be a truth.
Please tell Barnham that it wasn't his fault, there was nothing he could have done. I imagine he's taking it poorly, he takes his oaths and his duties very seriously. He's a good man and guilt is such a terrible thing. As I said. Certain hardships. If you share this letter with anyone, share it with him.
I will miss you. And I will think of you, for however long I am capable of thought. I'm sure you understand that I hope we don't see one another again. But if we do...at least you know that someone is here for you. One truth I have learned in this is that our connections with other people matter. To have a bond, a connection with another here...it makes all of the difference.
Remember me whenever you're drinking under the stars.
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robowest2017-02-13 12:00 pm
LUST
Eliot,
I'm sure you're surprised to hear from me. I'm surprised to be in a position to be writing. But there are more mysteries in this place than you or I could ever have guessed. My time in the world we know may be ended, but I still have time. Certain hardships are not escapeable. It's a sad truth, I'm afraid, but one we all must accept. Would that I could truly speak to you, but I'm afraid this is the only way to make my words heard. What a miracle, that the voiceless can still speak! I thought I'd lost my chance to communicate with you ever again.
I wanted very much to thank you. For everything, not just that night you found me. I'm sorry we had so little time to get to know one another, your company made this hellish month bearable. I consider you my first friend, or at least the first person I've called 'friend' and meant something by it. I once read that only silence is a true friend, but I don't believe that any longer. You've given me pleasant things to remember, and I hope you know that. Though I must admit in truth, it's the quiet moments I find myself thinking of most. I hope you can understand what I'm trying to impart to you. These things don't come easily to me. There are words of the head and words of the heart, as it's been said, and I am far more well versed in the former. I've never been one to act on my heart, to let my emotions dictate my actions. People can do such unbelievable and foolish things, when they allow their emotions and feelings to override good sense and decency. Perhaps in that sense I'm lucky. I've known no great love, never found myself tangled so deeply with anyone else. I think it would make everything the harder, had I. I did feel the start of it, once. But it led to ruin and death and a loss of any hope I had for a life of my own even so. I did terrible things, driven by this emotion. It's hardly a unique story, but one I feel the need to share with you while I can. I think I had been ready to give up, before all of this. I am not ready to give up now.
I fear I'm stumbling with my words, but I suppose there are simply some things that cannot be said. Some things can't even be written, they defy words. The face is the mirror of the mind, the eyes without speaking confess the secrets of the heart. Some saint said that, I think. I find it easier to use others' words, when expressing myself. Sometimes it's the only way one can express themselves, like this. But I put pen to paper in the deepest hope that my words truly find you.
Be careful. I would like to see you survive this madness, and fair far better than I. I wish I could give you some help, some advice, but I'm sure you know that anything I wrote pertaining to the game would never make it to you. It's a challenge, choosing what to say and what to take out. Do I take out the longing, the love, the grave ennui? That's the challenge. I'd say more, but... We can't have a nice easy...anything. I hope that this serves instead. Just keep in mind that threats can come from the most unlikely places.
I also hope...something was said for me. I was always told I would die alone and forgotten, and no one would be there to speak at my grave. I have long feared no one would say a word when I died. Don't let it be a truth.
Please tell Barnham that it wasn't his fault, there was nothing he could have done. I imagine he's taking it poorly, he takes his oaths and his duties very seriously. He's a good man and guilt is such a terrible thing. As I said. Certain hardships. If you share this letter with anyone, share it with him.
I will miss you. And I will think of you, for however long I am capable of thought. I'm sure you understand that I hope we don't see one another again. But if we do...at least you know that someone is here for you. One truth I have learned in this is that our connections with other people matter. To have a bond, a connection with another here...it makes all of the difference.
Remember me whenever you're drinking under the stars.
Sincerest wishes,
Lust
P.S: I told you.