inside my heart is breaking, my makeup may be flaking

i'll top the bill, i'll earn the kill
i have to find the will to carry on with the show
( the show must go on )

I am a dealer in falsehoods. We all are, in fact, even though no one wants to admit it. We hide our grief behind sarcasm, our fears behind silly pictures. We argue whether or not animals should wear clothes instead of politics, because it's easier than facing the real truth of what's going on around us. Doesn't anyone have any conviction anymore? I tire of this veneer, I tire of all of you. Can't anyone say what they mean? Or has the premium on honest feeling become too high? I feel everything honestly, and too much. To err is human, and I am drowning in humanity. That is to say I'm drowning in error.

Are children made to memorize the classics anymore? I loved Wordsworth as a child, though I did not understand him until I was a much older woman. And I will be older still, as I have a birthday coming. There is a saying, another year older, another year wiser. I don't believe the last part. The world has gone out of its way to prove there is no wisdom in anyone anymore. Wordsworth.

What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
            Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
            We will grieve not, rather find
            Strength in what remains behind;
            In the primal sympathy
            Which having been must ever be;
            In the soothing thoughts that spring
            Out of human suffering;
            In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.

the faith that looks through death.

Ha.

My grandson would have been born this week. My Michael, if that wretched bitch hadn't seen fit to play god with my child. I'm not surprised she wouldn't have called him Xavier, after her traitorous father.

Ah well, the whore has got her comeuppance, as we all will. I'm looking at you, Barty Crouch.

I had a son as well.

Warded: Olivia, Emmeline, Nora.

Thank you most sincerely for your kind words and gifts yesterday. It was a terrible shock, but your lovely gestures were most appreciated. Perhaps, with the truth out now, my children may rest.

Warded: Patrice Nott, Caracatus Lestrange, Isidore Mulciber.

I have stabbed my husband. I'm fairly certain he will live, unfortunately, as he keeps yelling, but perhaps you might want to send medical help.

My dear friends, strangers, all children, please stop expounding upon the nature of love. You don't know anything about love. If you think it is pretty, if you think it is kind, if you think it is sexy or sweet or caring, you are wrong. Love is the absence where your heart used to be. Love is the feeling of a knife between your ribs.

Anyone who dares fall in love with you is the most selfish, stupid person you have ever met, and should be avoided at all costs.

Love is pain, children.

Thus endeth the lesson.

Private.

The senseless violence continues unabated. Every month now we can expect stories more horrific than the month previous. What is the purpose? They are targeting our own kind, they are placing themselves to cause as much damage as possible. Indiscriminate killers kill indiscriminately. No cause is advanced by this--no one is made better, more powerful, through the killing of innocent people. I tire of this, I tire of my loyalties. If Xavier could tell me what the end is, what we are trying to achieve with these acts, perhaps I could support them, but there is no sense and there is no justice and nothing can make it better and

I ramble.

I have become an excellent rambler, of late.

Warded: Xavier.

Where are you?

Warded: Xavier.

I would like to go to the trial today.

"Vindicta Nemo magis gaudet quam foemina." Juvenal.



ooc translation: no one delights in revenge more than a woman.

Warded Private.

i will tear his head from his body with my own two hands.

( Warded Private. )

Warded: Xavier.

Where have you gotten yourself to?

Warded: Olivia.

I have been remiss. Would you like to come over for tea, say this Friday?

( Warded Private. )

( Warded: Olivia Wilkes. )

All of the songs on the Wireless make me c How quickly we have drawn up to the holidays, and then a new year. A new decade. Fascinating how time works.

( Warded: Private. )

Warded: Xavier.

Darling, how is your training with that lovely Wilkes girl going?

Warded Private.

It has been almost two months, and still I cannot think clearly. My mind wanders and suddenly I find that I have been standing still, frozen mid-task like someone has put a hex on me. Often, our house-elf will come upon me and gentle shake me into awareness, and I will find myself holding a half-eaten apple that has turned brown in the time it has taken me to come back to myself, or that the book I was reading has fallen to the floor, and the day has darkened into evening.

My children, my children.

Now the season for Christmas is almost upon us and every reminder of that happy time sends a pang through my heart. My family was never perfect, but the thought of a Christmas without them is unbearable. Every reminder of their absence is like another death, another part of me lost forever. If I had my husband, if I had Xavier to be strong for me...

but I don't know where his mind is these days.

I haven't even written in this book for so long now. Perhaps it is better for me to write my thoughts down. Perhaps if I force myself to commit my feelings to paper than I can begin to feel as if I exist again. I must force myself to exist again.

Warded: Xavier.

My darling, I feel it has been too long since we have talked.

It snowed for the first time this winter in Bath this morning. Big, fat flakes that were our favorite when we were children. The world continues, unabated It was lovely.