There is some time now, since I have decided that this like is no longer mine. I do not have the gift of words that my primary so-called rival has, but I am quite keen that most that will read these pages one day, for I intend on making them for keeps, will not misinterpret my words. I never meant to deliberately live for the better of keens. This kind of attitude comes as a pack when one is born amidst a people as calotiously traditional as my people. Even though survival is the key of every moment's breath it is commonly understood that every breath is for the sake of everybody else too. It is hard not to be a "part" when one lives the fragmentized life of hide and travel that the desert demands. Therefore I think it is fair to say that I have always been prepared to live my life for the better of the people. But that was only one part of me, as school and education can never fully describe anyone anywhere. Maybe the Benne Gesserit, I still do not know enough about them to say but I reckon that school is somehow building a full description for anyone who attends it. There was once an idea that I would be fit for that school. I am only sorry I never got the courage to shatter that illusion about me since I find it all wrong and outrageously diminishing. This would never fit me. Not by a long run, rest assured of that.
I guess I am moving further from the main idea, a literary mistake that I am sure she would never make except for the purpose of expressing something intentionally. I have been reading a lot for the past years and I can very well talk about literature and instruments of manipulating it. For an artistic scope. Yes, even in this time and place, my place, I can mention manipulation for ends other than political power. Even though some might find this unimportant and irrelevant I find these other ends far more worthy than any kind of objective purpose that I see all around me animates people into actions that could mildly be called pathetic.
I found myself in the place I am now. Life just swept me towards it. People would be wrong if they thought that along the way I didn't fantasize of getting back the control of my life. Especially after reading so many stories from foreign worlds, from people not so daily obsessed with life, death and survival. There was a time when I would call them all wrong, since they never got in touch with the real life, but now I find judgments are hard to be made for they saw many things we never figured would come our way.
My life is of those that live of me. Those to whom I gave them my body, spirit and heart. I gave them freely and dare I say knowingly even though I was just child in those days. Little did I know of the tricks life plays on you. I am not nor happy nor discontent with that decision since it is far long ago that I took it. More even I was never aware that I was taking a decision. I was just dancing on the drums of heart. As I am doing now. As I probably always will and that will be the end of it.
Many people see me as half-a-witch, not to be tempted, not to be feared, not to be understated, not to be fully respected. My words count for life but my life counts for so little. And so much yet. My selfishness stops me from seeing things as they probably are. I am more concerned with my shapeless sadness and its shadowy reasons. I wished I believed some will read this one day and for at least a while my words will be measured alongside everyone else's, especially her, who puts it all so lovely, so lovingly. I am less lost in my dreams and desires as her, since I suppose I got mine turned real. Therefore I can re-become selfish and look to the part of the soul where I never dare sink deep for too long. The place of absolute ego, of absolute wrong and right, a place of pain for everyone dealing with this shallow life of us.
Back then... to whom I am. I am. It is a literary wrong to use one word as obsessively as I use I. I do not believe in the policy of individualism that rules on other planets. I am only saying what I feel. I would hate if one day my words will become intellectual toys for anyone trying to casually diminish and despise those whom I, with all my heart and never hate. It is I who I hate... It is I...