Here we go... again...





It seems like another ordinary day in Ireem... one of those days that stirs the blood. There is nothing new to write concerning the outside world. It seems the Bedu are upset over their losses... and have targeted the Dark Knights.

 Not that I care -- in any case. I've taken a break from healing... something about the sight of blood has gotten to me. It just breaks my heart every time I hear about friend going against friend all over a shiny crystal! Blah.... once again, I find myself wishing I could be like those heartless bitches. Then I could honestly say I didn't care... and spend my time sleeping my way to the top... yeah.... hopping from male to male like there was no tomorrow!

Sadly... I still have a brain... even though bruised, my heart's still somewhat... hmmm... not sure where I am going with this. Just going to leave it and move on to other rantings.

As always, stories of poor slave girls... no, stupid slave girls who were foolish to trust. It's come to the point where I honestly believe that most males in Ireem cannot be trusted...  But they do prove that males who think they can handle trying to keep more then one woman... honestly don't understand the attention that female's require. And that... deep down most women are catty bitches... I mean, a touch on the insecure side.

Or maybe it's come down to the point where... I just want to settle down with one person... one person who just wants me... and not a million other women? Haha monotony in Ireem, like a virgin slave girl, doesn't really exist. 


Ah, times like this make me yearn for the safety of the Oiran house. Things were so much simpler then. I  would wake... and head to the baths. After a long soak and a few colorful chats with the others... onto breakfast. Most of the afternoon would then be spent preparing for that evening.

The setting sun would find me painting my face a soft shade of white. A little bit of crimson would accent my eyes... along with my lower lip. Ah, but not in the same fashion as a maiko. No, the shades used was far more bold. Once finished... a stylist would come to brush my raven locks into something amazing... accented by gold ornaments.

Once done, I would sit with the other ladies of the house in something that, to me now... seems very much like a cage. Men would then approach the bars. If I were lucky that evening... then I would get a client... If not the evening would be spent in the room... listening to the other unlucky girls chatter away.

-sigh- I wonder what would happen if I never came to Ireem at all? Then I would have never meet Kito... heh or Aizen for that matter. Oddly enough, the thought amuses me so because I am pissed off them BOTH OF THEM RIGHT NOW. Men... so bloody clueless it's just fucking painful...  Doesn't matter... I don't have the courage to say anything at the moment... At least I can let this all out in the pages of my diary. Instead of keeping it all locked inside like some nut case...

Ah well... back to the sands! Maybe I can find a story that has nothing to do with "that pregnant slave girl" or  "I got attacked by 'x' for the 'blank time... so I am going to do something stupid"... geeze... if I did not know any better I would swear the lot of the people in this city are on drugs!



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