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Post by Lady Leaf on May 26, 2011 2:05:48 GMT -5
May 25, 2011
I’ve never written in a diary before. It seems odd and utterly pointless. A dairy is meant to hold ones secrets be it their dreams or their thoughts on the time that has already passed. Memories in which no one but the writer is ever suppose to read. Such blubberish. Every journal, diary or note book eventually is read, even if it is only briefly. Unless by some miracle every word, every page and every smidgen of ink is washed away or burnt before a single hopeless soul is able to lay eyes upon it. I wont fool myself into thinking that my dairy will be the one in a millionth that isn’t read, therefore, I shall try to not write too much. At times I may choose not to write at all.
It was an employee of mine who suggested I write in a dairy. He is a care free man but a hard worker. He wont be staying with the company long regretfully but for his own personal reasons, not mine. Anyway, he had told me, and this I quote, “Someday, sir, when your bodies buried safely underground, you’ll be famous. That book will make your grandchildren rich.” I had told him he was too high on life and needed to bring his mind back down to reality, yet here I am. Writing in a cheep book I bought off some woman in Wharfenfair along with a few other things. An oddly named place, Wharfenfair, but it’s where my new factory shall be built. We’ve successfully bought the rights to build and construction should begin in about a week or so. Find men to work the factory wont be difficult at all. I do fear how well we will find buyers. This factory will have no choice but to rely ninety percent on trade with other countries. The people here are still too poor to afford most of the product I shall produce. On the other hand it may prove handy. The employees will work for half the wage I give employees in the other regions.
I met with bother and Rosa a week ago. They seem well enough. My brother hasn’t changed a bit. Still wasting his time and money with pointless events and calibrations. Sometimes I wonder if he will ever grow up. I know he will someday the question is, before or after he runs the East into the ground. It’s none of my business anyway. My opinion on the matter will stay out of this book at lest for now. My dear little Rosa on the other hand is growing up so beautifully. She no dubitably grow into the flower of this family. I dread the day the boys coming knocking on her door to ask for her hand. I will have to obtain a Houndoom to stand watch at her door.
Which brings to mind the progress I’ve made in reinstating myself back into the castle walls. The first visit went rather well if I do say so. The beginning had been briefly rough. The fool had tried to keep me from Rosa. I was almost prepared to take drastic measures. Digging into the deep shadows of soul was something I had not wanted to do quite yet. I knew it wasn’t time. But, with a little persuasion my brother finally warmed up to me. I saw my little Rosa and as I was leaving I made the most promising progress with Felis. I had claimed I loved the fool, which in a dark, twisted way, I suppose I do. I had believed he had ignored my attempt to make peace with him but by the end he had returned the comment. I have yet to confirm if he will forgive me for leaving for so long but I shall work on that. As long as I can get myself settled back into the Castle to keep an eye on Rosa I should be alright. Other wise I will need to find myself a suitable home soon. These distasteful hotels are extremely suffocating. I can hardly stand another moment in one.
Wharfenfair reminds me that I met a man the other day. He was a slim man with the beauty of a woman. I can not disclose too much information about him in these pages but I believe I’ve grown quiet attached to him. I’ve hired him under section B. A section for highly talented people who I know will prove to serve myself and the company well. He has yet to do any work for me yet I’m already immensely impressed with him. I know he will serve me well.
Fin.
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