Counterfeit

I’ve escaped again, into the wide world of both free and slaves. I’ve stopped asking one of the others to accompany me in my sojourns, feeling it more of an imposition than a safety factor. After all, no one wanted me before I was brought here, I don’t see why that would have changed.

I haven’t seen Landra in quite some time, which leads me to believe she might have had a chance to go to the fair with her master. Perhaps next year I will be able to attend as well, since I’ve yet to make the pilgrimage.

I’ve been spending less time in the Gardens of Gein and more time in the Gardens of Ar. I long to see people, to be accepted into of the wealth of cordiality and to play a part in the drama of life. But for some reason, I seem unable to do this, for I am nothing more then a counterfeit coin, dull and lackluster, amongst those that glitter and shine with their confidence.

It’s not that I mind the solitude, mostly, for it gives me introspect into how I am perceived and how I should interact. I see how men act with others in collar and these girls I do not envy. I have no desire to find myself in a paga den or in the laps of those that see only what the body offers and not the mind.

But too I know I am subject to obey and what I want is not important, at least not in the grand scheme of things. I feel that I am being denied the all knowing secret that other’s are privy to.