CHAPTER I
The Cycle of Three Moons
Month I - VI, 1812
Hydaermissia, Day V, Month I, MDCCCXII.
The performance of my terrible writing will, perhaps, change for the better once I really really deign to start this journal with a sure heart or when my parents decided to pursue for me a career as a barber once they knew that my handwriting is as impeccable as those of a group of visiting brilliant ducal doctors from which I realised that I cannot truly read all things written and which practise will surely continue given the reverence they deserved and its supposed secrecy told around by peoples of reason such as me and my friends.
Concerning barbers, I truly know one who is named Rufus, despite his black hair, as one of the kindest creatures I have ever encountered in my life if the fact he gives us free home-made delicacies be anything to go by. Useful delicacies, among many others, are: the flaming pieces of black cake, the butterfly-shaped mint candies, and the truly special variously shaped bars of oatmeal, are made by his beautiful and grandmother-like wife, which I do not know by name until now, every day except in the Saturdays and Sundays of the month's weeks and the fifth week, which are distributed far and wide and are very famous particularly in our neighbourhood.
I believe that a believable rumour has circulated that one of her delicacies has entered the circle of the Grand-Prince of Cognomittium but I exclude other conclusions of them being eaten by the Grand-Prince himself and his immediate family and favour that they are being eaten by his prominent butlers and palatial governors or even his ageing mother, the Dowager Grand-Princess which is bitter with life.
I conclude that her life is bitter because of the fact that she only eats bitter chocolates which I associated with Gray liveliness. I often wonder how the Grand-Prince can remain particularly lively in such an association but I think she still has many pearls of wisdom which is beneficial for her son and her grandson who is only two years younger than me. I heard the young prince is particularly beautiful.
Now, concerning the most important thing that I forgot to mention in the expense of one paper, is that this idea of writing in a journal came from the history of my great-grandfather who was a prominent literary advisor in the imperial court of our most pre-eminent grand-emperor who brought countries of glorious histories and civilisations under his superb rule and reign. I was told that such occurrence was rare but I firmly believe that they are countless and I will see another of its kind in my life!
Back to the course of the story, My grandfather was a great historian and writer who wrote chronicles in the countless and plays set into the most magnanimous settings of all time. He was remembered in my home town as a cultural hero and many of my grandfathers, granduncles, and other ancestors followed in his footsteps. Remembering the extent of his writings and seeing that I am interested in books and old tales in yellowed books, my parents began searching among the obscured works of my grandfather and found his early journals and experimental chronicles that I find myself invested in. After such a thorough reading of those magical books and after gathering a great amount of courage, bravery and unheard strength, I have decided to write my own version of the journals.
My own, that I see will be read by others in a fit of delusion. Gazing into the sunset just yesterday in the hilly end of our house's garden, I see myself in a great pose inside a gorgeous study and my great-grandfather is there as me! That wondrous thing is what made me to starve myself during the night and to be scolded just this morning for that and because of my active imagination of the bright future, I will have! Now after I receive a kind permission from my nagging mother to write in hope that my terrible skill in penmanship will increase, I am excused from the tutorship of frightening Magister Aemilius Magnus of mathematics to truly relish in this new favourite that I will continue, hopefully, for more than two weeks.
Sincerely Yours,
Caeso.
YOU ARE READING
To Talk To Yourself
General FictionThis is a diary, or a journal, of a young man's early life. For no one can understand the meaning of his life but himself and no one can fully comprehend his existence but himself. He understands that his life is just a great miracle. He is the cond...
