Colwyn DiNeve (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sugarandice) wrote2010-09-17 06:17 pm
sugarandice) wrote2010-09-17 06:17 pm
September 17, 2010
A word to the wise: If a Seer, particularly a Seer named Cassandra, tells you something, it really is best to take heed.
[PRIVATE]
I never imagined that a foretelling of what was to come could come about so quickly. One would think when asking about one's future prospects that the response would have to do with something weeks, even years from that moment.
Two days.
Two days, and past, present and future all hit at once.
She told me that help would come from an unexpected source, and not to show too much contempt for the one offering.
Well, I guess I blew that one, didn't I? Even years later, he knows me well enough to push my buttons, and I rose to the bait. I don't believe he holds things entirely in his hands; his word may have sway with Peter, but it's not the be all and end all. But cocking it up (to borrow one of Dad's favorite phrases) with him certainly didn't improve my chances.
A self-inflicted loss. Does this count? I don't even know. The future is fluid, but the future is also bloody vague. I guess it would count if I gave up simply because I think Doyle is going to tell Peter to stay away from me. But I don't intend to give up.
I wonder if Doyle realized, or realizes now, that part of the reason that I refused to answer his questions was because I don't know the answer? Probably not, since he was so insistent that I needed to answer. Does he not understand that things aren't so simple?
I know what I want to say to him, to Peter, but it'll come off as if I'm playing a game, and that's not my intention. It's only that for all that I can't lie, it's also almost impossible to speak the truth plainly. It's terrifying to be that vulnerable. But making an admission in a language that the one you're speaking to doesn't understand doesn't really solve anything, does it?
Even so, Peter, rydych chi bopeth yr wyf eisiau oherwydd eich bod yn bopeth nad wyf fi.
[PRIVATE]
I never imagined that a foretelling of what was to come could come about so quickly. One would think when asking about one's future prospects that the response would have to do with something weeks, even years from that moment.
Two days.
Two days, and past, present and future all hit at once.
She told me that help would come from an unexpected source, and not to show too much contempt for the one offering.
Well, I guess I blew that one, didn't I? Even years later, he knows me well enough to push my buttons, and I rose to the bait. I don't believe he holds things entirely in his hands; his word may have sway with Peter, but it's not the be all and end all. But cocking it up (to borrow one of Dad's favorite phrases) with him certainly didn't improve my chances.
A self-inflicted loss. Does this count? I don't even know. The future is fluid, but the future is also bloody vague. I guess it would count if I gave up simply because I think Doyle is going to tell Peter to stay away from me. But I don't intend to give up.
I wonder if Doyle realized, or realizes now, that part of the reason that I refused to answer his questions was because I don't know the answer? Probably not, since he was so insistent that I needed to answer. Does he not understand that things aren't so simple?
I know what I want to say to him, to Peter, but it'll come off as if I'm playing a game, and that's not my intention. It's only that for all that I can't lie, it's also almost impossible to speak the truth plainly. It's terrifying to be that vulnerable. But making an admission in a language that the one you're speaking to doesn't understand doesn't really solve anything, does it?
Even so, Peter, rydych chi bopeth yr wyf eisiau oherwydd eich bod yn bopeth nad wyf fi.
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