Below are the 17 most recent journal entries recorded in 外星公主's LiveJournal:

Tuesday, July 1st, 2003
3:53 pm	PARTY? This thursday...maybe perhapes...our house yeah! (Comment on this)
Tuesday, June 24th, 2003
7:19 pm	Some time ago the pretty lady asked us to tell her of the elder races of mars. We have been a long time in answering for many reasons, mostly because the story is such a long one and the circumstances in which we heard it are so important to understanding the truth of what we say. Thus before we are able to speak of the second born, as they called themselves, and their adversary there are other things we must tell you first, such as how Martians learn their crafts and of our first years upon the shining throne… Language was not the first thing we were taught living among the Al’thir, the first thing we were taught was not to eat any new thing on Mars in quantity at first. The lesson was slow in learning no matter how many times we became sick eating Al’thir dishes the very next meal we would be stuffing our selves. The old men would hoot from the fireside what must have been encouragements while we emptied our guts every other night. Later our ecologist told us that the Al’thir let most of there food rot in the sun a before eating and is notoriously hard for outsiders to stomach. We have often thought that maybe they possessed less gut flora than earth people. Language was however the very next lesson. For those who come to live among strange people on mars there is a marvelous plant, though it posses many a quality of animal, that grows on the edge of the most holy of waters the Salkarin Sea. The Salkarin Sea is the closest point between the shifting lands and this world on Mars, beneath its waters the gate rests. The plant is called the windflower and its nectar is the fruit of knowledge. It does not teach yet those who drink its poisoned essence become almost as children nothing is impossible every thing comes quickly it is as if the days slow again as in youth and as the march of time flags the speed of growth increases. Speaking ten languages is not the work of a lift time but rather a few years and for those that fancy them selves linguist many many score nest in there shells. It is thus that the Jun-goth learns his trade. The Jun-gothi are story tellers and teachers and while multi-lingualism flourishes literacy is rare. Jun-gothi travel from village to village from clan to clan everywhere they are welcomed. The way in which they are welcomed is different from place to place in the streets of the mirrored city the citizens sit quietly in awe, while every Eira’keen warrior feels that if they do not challenge the Jun-goth's words that he has not truly listened. Race, sex, religion, all are secondary to the mark of their patroness on there face. Not even the fierce Eira’keen or the wild Amonden cut them selves off from the deep wells of knowing. These story tellers do not how ever often agree with one and other or are quick to change the nature of there tales to suite the ears of there listeners. To add to the confusion some Jun-gothi only speak of things they have seen with there own eye while other only claim to and still others openly proclaim their stories lies, however are the true teachers of Mars. They carry news of every new farming technique with them as they go. They are students of many fighting arts and their assessments of battles across the planet are the best and the most detailed. They sing the comings of assassins and plagues. Even mundane skills such as baking, sewing, carpentry, music, flesh dancing (this is the martian ephamism for sex), child rearing all are subjects that the Jun-gothi could or could not be versed in. It was first from these women and men that we heard of the second born… (Comment on this)
Friday, June 20th, 2003
12:40 pm	We find a peace in training...listlessly or with great purpose it is like a thousand voices raised in song calling out there will and desire. Each character written, each form played, is a silken thread in the cocoon that houses our transformation. In the shifting lands we once saw a sorcerer bind the souls of his foes to him self and delicately devour there flesh. The strength of devotion, the transmutive power of conflict; they are a single spirit an unbroken force in the matrix of training and play. (Comment on this)
Sunday, June 15th, 2003
11:19 pm	The first thing we remember is standing in our parents’ kitchen covered in mud. There was a police officer there; he told our parents that we were looking for snakes. He seemed to think that we might have found some if he had not come along. This was before mars...before many things. Last night we heard a woman sing we did not understand her words. We had not felt that way in some time. It reminded us of another time; a time before we threw down the old queen, before we broke her spells of binding and ascended to the shining throne. We then lived in the house of Jhir-ahamarath a warrior of the Al'thir people; cousin to the man we met that day. Jhir' lived in the high cliffs that over looked the border between the long lush Al'thir hunting grounds and the seemingly identical Yil grazing pastures. A border that a hundred years before my time was hotly contested, but the pterosaurs (untouchable symbols of the shining throne) that had migrated into those same cliffs had killed most of the game. So the Al'thir banner tribes had year after lazy year moved there forces and war beast south to hunt the proud Damodrans that were the main stay of there diet and the focus of there rites of passage and strength in the shifting lands. Later when the Al'thir rose the banners against the Hamath people (who supply the largest share of wealth to the empire) the old queen took her ships and war machines to slaughter the Damodrans in the thousands. All to break the Al'thir spirit and starve the tribe. The tactic worked so well that only a six score years later we emulated her when that tribe raided our summer palace on the banks of the red river and burnt it to the ground. We lost only six men before the conflict ended four Al'thir and two of our house warriors, one of those in the fire at the lost palace. That day however we did not command a single man or child. We sat instead in the house of Jhir-ahamarath watching the pterosaurs wheel on thermals from his doorstep fifty feet above the plain. There iridescent purple scales flashing in the weak Martian sun when we saw him for the first time. He sat atop his feathered steed singing the song of his fathers; wind lance across his shoulders, painted shield on his back dirty cap whipping behind him…It would be a lie to say that we fell in love just then unless we were to clarify that we had fallen in love with Mars. Listening to him sing then the whole world stopped for a moment we could hear the deepness of his song as it echoed back down past's hall. To whom or what the song spoke to we cannot guess but it was the first time that we felt at peace on Mars, and even so the sight of him filled us with much dread. To him we must have seemed no less strange perched on his cousin’s door beneath the sign of the empire and his enemy the Royal Syll’m; in the tongue of England called the pterosaur, the wing finger. Had he only know or heeded the signs, for it was as our eyes met his for the first that he had seen the eyes of his slayer. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, June 13th, 2003
2:45 pm	In dreams we see him; a brown haired boy. Who is he and what does he have to do with us, we feel as though we have seen him before, that we some how once knew him. This is the dilemma of dream all who look long into that place know that this world and that one touch, the question then becomes where do these tethers meet and what is the nature of the bond. On earth many believe that the shifting lands are not another place but another state in which the traveler does not pass between the veils but rather sinks in-ward towards the deeper self to commune with the spoken and undreamt regions of the self. While this belief is the product of the barbarism and superstition that permeates the third world this wisdom should not be discarded lightly. In the shifting lands when you meet a friend sometimes they are only wraiths that have come to feed. The wraith is adept at imitation it looks inside you and takes all the experiences and becomes them. The wraith however is not your friend...only all that you ever thought them to be the careful and the wise can see the difference; it is the difference between this world and the true one. The boy reminds us much of King Su as he dreamt himself long before we met. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Saturday, June 7th, 2003
9:24 am	The sun was only just up this morning as we drove our selves back home from the airport. In the middle of the busy interstate we saw some thing that we could not identify at first it was small and indistinctly colored in the soft light of the early day. Then it hopped and I knew what I was seeing, a frog playing frogger. It jumped between the wheels of an eighteen wheeler and in my rear view mirror when the truck had passed over the ill fated beast it remained. I do not wonder if it made its way across. (Comment on this)
Friday, June 6th, 2003
2:30 pm	We are prepairing...soon our journey will begin only a few weeks left and then... and then what? We can't say we do not dare guess too much it could cripple us at just the wrong moment. We feel it now, a restlessness, a feeling that something is about to happen, something wonderful. Who knows what we will become? Who could stop us? Who would dare? (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, June 3rd, 2003
6:05 pm	We can not remember at what age we were, but it was a long time ago, a thief stole into our house and took our things we might have been upset at the time, mostly because they took games from us that we were not finished playing, a foul end to a rememberable weekend in which we spent the days with an old friend, then new, and a thing happened that was often remarked upon in later conversations between him and us. Memory is a bolder lier than dream, for dream tells one that they have done something that they have not like kissing stones or that they have done often like running or waking up but memory tells one that some thing they did but with all the most important details left out. Current Mood: quixotic (Comment on this)
Thursday, May 8th, 2003
10:54 pm	What does it mean why does it say these things about us? SEDUCTIVE EYES What kind of anime eyes do you have? (picture results) brought to you by Quizilla (2 Comments |Comment on this)
1:57 pm	Since we have come to Earth the dream world has changed so much. At least once a week we are made to fight the living dead in the kingdom of night. Last night we fought the evil; every time we defeated one of there number they turned into red lit cybernetic turtles. The sensation of running, the excitement of casting down my foes, and binding their spirits to me, they are echoes of the life we once lived. Have we become so hollow and so simple? There was a wizard and his golem as well; we fought in a moving sky walk littered future. The golem remains clearest in my mind; he wore a black cape and was made of segmented silver and steel, his face was a single concave yellow glowing eye. Some times we awake confused and frantic not from fear but from the fading exaltation of triumph. It is the same sensation, we image, as feeling ones blood gush from ones throat. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Wednesday, May 7th, 2003
6:47 pm	The Princess: “Three, times we have warned you against raising the banners near Il’marath the home of my father-in-law.” “Now what pray tell are we to do with you?” The King of Su: “My lady, you are the fairest gem in the heavens." The Princess: "You have said so before King Su, what do you mean by it now." The King of Su: “Nothing, my lady.” “Only that we are undeserving of her mercy and if given the choice would never depart from her side.” The Princess: "Truly... then there is only one thing to do." --So spoke King Su lord and master of the Al'thir people only moments before his impromptu execution and burial at the foot of the shining throne. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, May 6th, 2003
11:33 pm	We aren't realy sure what to make of this revelation...though we have always liked the color red and sweet things. Congratulations!! You are the CHERRY please copy the following code, and add it to your weblog or otherwhere... I took the fruity fruit quiz made by rav-chan Check out which fruit you are (5 Comments |Comment on this)
4:15 pm	We have always been taken by the change of seasons. Summer is almost upon us. Our lips and palms bleeds in anticepation. The sun screams and the sky shutters and vibrates in lascivious exaltation. The wind licks my face and neck, promising rain and mist. 夏天的时候个个东西变成了。友情变得爱情，爱情变得仇恨。但是夏天不在乎。夏天让清风变成风暴也让爱情人吃错。在夏天的时候兵人打架也农夫种植。All the world knows it, madness and wonder. Some deign it and others fear it but all must embrace it. It is there nature and there essence. Even dreams and ghosts change there clothes. 事事和人人得服从它得自然也它得道。 (Comment on this)
Monday, May 5th, 2003
5:41 pm	"Look at the wind," cried the princess. "See how free it is coming and going as it pleases, see how it blows twists and turns with out cause or care." "Look at the princess," cried the wind. "See how wild see is, eating and sleeping as she wishes saying what ever fancy takes her with out reason or want." (Comment on this)
Sunday, May 4th, 2003
7:53 pm	What is a warrior? A killer, a servant of peace, a ghost never to be seen on earth or mars again. On mars many thousands of our warriors died during the war of clouds and tears, they were of many ages and professions they were painters and scientist, poets and trash collectors. Many would came into the vaulted chamber of house to debate all manor of concerns, Martian princess you see are not as unapproachable nor as busy as earth kings and students. There was not one characteristic amongst them, at the time that we could point to that separated them from the rest of the inhabitants of the star palace or the city that stretched out for miles all around it. They were fat and thin, serious and stern as stones and as gay and frivolous as the air. Some moved with the care and precision of dry and aging watchmakers others with grace and zest of mating pterosaurs drifting on lazy thermals. On earth our sworn brothers have told us that you can see the skill of a warrior in his eyes or the way that he carries him self, while we think that they are right yet we have not ever been able through any kenning to see it. Soldiers on Earth die in the thousand as well, there skill ranges from great to small yet most are only soldiers, they live to die. Others are warriors. The difference that we, an untested wretch in this regard, see is that warriors choose, and soldiers obey. In the west lands the hero is dead, now he is called a terrorists, Robin Hood is a thief, Beowulf a murderer, Fa Mu Lan is a transvestite, as well as a cartoon. Why do the heros of Earth sleep in there graves instead of being reborn as is there right and responsibility? They lie dead because choice and resoponsibilty are the tools of power and enlightenment, not to be trusted to any one but the master. When given the abiltity the choose and the responsibilitity for those choices a citizen-soldier has no need for there king or masters. The Earth is filled with soldiers, most often they are not fighting soldiers but working ones, they fill the streets schools and stores of Earth. They obey out of fear for loosing something that they cannot put their finger on. They are not even kings of there own flesh or the heroes of there own stories. They are less than ghosts, wisps and dross in the fires of what is called real. (3 Comments |Comment on this)
12:27 am	The earth is filled with more wonder than we can express. Today we saw a snake slither through the grass and as we followed it disappeared into the nothing. In the house of memory we watch the serpent swim across the earth over and over but each time the result is the same the nature of its motion is so fascinating that it's direction is impossible to see. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Saturday, May 3rd, 2003
10:19 am	Il destino e il vento The speak of the island conquerors was my first tongue much like the speech of the Air Kings on Mars with whom the armies of Var’nal fought a least a score of times. In my house our family warriors fight and drink to my honor. Studiamo le lingue della Terra. Sul Marte ci sono una milla lingue, qualcosa noi capiamo e ci sono non possiamo dire con noi boca che solo è umano, e qualcosa altri sono occulto o segreto o sacrid o santo. But please forgive our letters and there barbarian cast it has been a hundred years since we spoke the harsh clamoring words of our forefathers. On mars learning languages is as easy as traveling to the great library of the city of the green mist whose people first took us in and through strange circumstance made us their queen. There is not one king upon the earth today that ruled an empire as vast or as wondrous as the one that we do. Yet that is to be expected for so much of earths majesty that we had told our people of has past into the land of dreams and dust. Il mondo cambiava, il mondo cambiando, e il mondo cambierà. Questa è il nostro regalo per voi. (1 Comment |Comment on this)