Kitsune cannot explain this

Weaving the wyrd threads into twine. Braid a rope, not a tapestry. The guilt-free is guilty, the guiltless guiles. The accused and the innocent in a tailspin with over some thing, some one thing. No, nothing. No face which to face.

I am a far too many faceted being to stick to anything long enough to appear consistent… I am chaos incarnate, yet I am a daughter of Khaine.

The trouble with this is I thrive in chaos where others may falter. I strive for order so I may live harmoniously with others… Alas, I fall apart when I am forced to behave in such a personally discordant way…

I am not purposely trying to be contrary. On the contrary! I want to fit in! I want to be valuable and I am that when I am able to be of assistance. Maybe if I do enough visible good, acknowledged will be my contributions to the fluidity of society’s perpetual motion, growth and development machine.

I say that my deeds must be seen to be good. For more often than not I am mistaken and misunderstood. For situations arise around me that appear I am being duplicitous, manipulative, and speaking deceit…

I do not understand how that happened. I don’t know what that is. I didn’t do anything like that, even though there seems to be proof that I did..? I have been good, so very good. I’m trying to very hard to show you and impress you with how chaste I am being.

Alas, I cannot be taken at my word for I am not to be trusted. I have before lied and manipulated and twisted words and (gas)lights to get what I wanted. I collected hearts and minds, I was even offered souls.

I enjoyed all my offerings and gifts that were given unto me. I especially delighted in listening to them stifle their cries as I would smile, turn, and then slowly walk away. Holding their heart as I distanced myself, you can feel the strings pull taut as they’re still attached to the rest of their self.

Oh how my spirit did and does jump in excited delight. I used to be worshiped and revered as a goddess. It does bring the hint of a smile to reminisce that this mortal mother can still work it like a minx.

I kept all these mementos squirreled away in the realm of ataraxic paroxysm. It is located along the road to nowhere. Some written recollections exist in that place but like most things in the swirling Empyrean, its mainly just noise.

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