Jurdan post TWK, cannon non-compliant

Jude trying to journal and try writing

Title: 

Random journal entry not at all related to my life.  

Why the hell am I starting this thing? Why the hell am I writing down all the random life? Well, I'm not about to start therapy, but I'm bored. I have too much energy and all the old ladies at the Gi-Qong class are have been begging me to try. They tell me trouble souls make the best writers.  Because I refuse to confess to a priest and be absolved of all my crimes. I stand by them. During a weak moment of self-pity, I begin. Why? No idea. I'm bored, I can't sleep, I'm cold, its three a.m. and I figured why the hell not.... So.... Random start here we go. These are the four phrases I'm going to puzzle. It's a self-generated prompt, were going to see where my imagination/inituion/truth leads. If that is, infact, a true interpretation of whatever the hell this is supposed to be. I'm having a crisis. Please leave me alone.  I'm going to bare with myself. This may burn as soon a I finish this 15 min. rant. No one will see this, and then I will go and actually take charge of my liiiiiiife.

 Whole hearted. Fully committed to oneself. Trust. No reservations

I'm not the kinda girl that's al zen, finding my joy, living from my happy place all the time, letting my emotions be controlled by logic. I love my emotions too much, and I'm unashamed you say I'm addicted to them. I crave and love the drama. I'm self absorbed, I like to feel. I need to cry, to hurt, to grieve for people I sometimes have very little power over, over people I'm helpless to help. I wouldn't trade it for anything. I'm not all about that achieving, productive life. I'm all about that feeling, seeing, dying, flying, fighting,living life. I don't see peace as a means to a happy and fulfilled life working hard at being successful, or making a huge visible difference. If you truly believe that each person is powerful, holds infinite potential, and is intrinsically and fathomlessly, bottomlessly valué able, don tell me that punching, touching a single soul isn't enough. I want this. I choose this. I choose to follow my heart, to go down paths others are scared of. I don't fear the dark. I see better in it. I'm no longer blinded. There is a feeling of tranquility of knowing you can blend into the same cover of martyrs and monsters without anyone ever being any wiser.
So all these semi- irresponsible decisions, all the disappointment. I'm not doing any wrong, just unconventional. I'm gonna be a writer, acrobat, and save fabric, children, and take care of trash. I'm gonna talk to the recycling center. I'm gonna stay fucked up. Because this is the life I want. The life I won't give up on. The zen life, that tame future, count me out. I'm gonna be the girl that drives with the windows down, with silence winds racing through her knuckles as she raced through the night. One minutes shes there the next she's stoped, nearly inci si le by how quickly she changes in speed.
I drew idle circles along his arm, watching as he tatooed my thigh, hair  shoreline g his face from view. We were at the beach, an odd location for a tattoo parlor. QON. Cardan. Black Jaír, inhaling, keeping my touch feathe light while all I wanted was to sink my nails in. To claw ou the pain. I was little better that a wolf caught in a trap, gnawing it's leg down to the bone to get free.

I didn't want things to go back to the way they were. I didn't want him to touch me and leave. To hold me when I hurt and leave me when I was uninjured. I was being a baby. I could handle it when he ignored me for days on end. I know he had his Kingly duties, and that we were keeping this child secret. I knew why I stayed in the mortal realm, but I was sick of not feeling him near.His warm skin on mine. I shook my head and pulled myself upright on the bed. Get up, get going. Plan. I groaned and let my shoulders fall back against the wall before swingly my feet down to the bare cold floor.
It's not as hard or impossible to love someone as you think. After all it's fairly simple to hate someone rather quickly. The thi about living in. Extremes is that they tend to tengo together. It's way easier to love and hate someone, the same person than most people assume. It's complex, messy, and complete makes you doubt your own sanity. But it's true, and life is no Th I if not an experience of itongy, juxtapositions, and reevaluations ur never rally sure if you should be making. Revolutions are birthed very day, but few grow to smoke, to spit fire, to be as dragones as their mothers. As their frail, flammable nurtures. They too, can easy be squashed with what're. Shit.
So Jude cardan. Nicassis, Second wife, half divorce. She does it, not after she accepts him back. she'd sad. Fists against eyes, hair unbound lying back over the edge of her bed, on her pillow. Missing at / He only really knows her secrets, only really understands her soul. When he returns, she asks him to grow a beard. Dark pink lips, Scruff. Kiss. bent her over slowly. mist, drizzle, café window sitting on a backless stool.