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First Entry
Greetings.
I am Ilraen-Aroline-Fothergill, and I have been told by a good friend that I should try one of these public journals. I already keep a private journal for recording things I cannot speak of, but this way I can share some of my thoughts with my friends and fellow-agents. I do not know if anyone will really read these entries, but since I would like to have more contact with others, I agreed to a trial—on the condition that my friend and chief instigator, Jenni, start one herself. I believe it can be found here.
This journal is also set up so that my partner, Supernumerary, may use it if he wishes, but I don't think he will. Nume is not particularly fond of sharing anything.
What to say? As I write this, it is midday, and so far we have not had an assignment. I do not trust the console's silence for one minute, but it has been a pleasant morning. I have been visiting the courtyard to conduct my daily rituals, and I have begun to notice an effect. The courtyard itself was a discovery I made some time ago, and it alone has done wonders for me. An Andalite needs space to run; we were not meant to live indoors. I find that I am much happier there, with Alice and the other horses various agents have rescued over the years for company. We race sometimes; Alice wins. Someday I may ask her permission to acquire her and a few of the others for a new morph. Then we shall see.
But, returning to the rituals. Something to mark the opening and closing of each day adds a significance that was previously lacking. Even if I miss one due to a mission, once I return to the routine again, it is reassuring. I do not know how much of this effect is attributable to my species—have we evolved to need structure?—or simply to my own, personal need. Whatever the reason, I feel more at peace with myself than I ever have before.
Orken, if you are reading this, I hope it does not trouble you to know that I am trying to become more like the Andalite you expected when we first met. It cannot change my opinion of you, my friend.
I am Ilraen-Aroline-Fothergill, and I have been told by a good friend that I should try one of these public journals. I already keep a private journal for recording things I cannot speak of, but this way I can share some of my thoughts with my friends and fellow-agents. I do not know if anyone will really read these entries, but since I would like to have more contact with others, I agreed to a trial—on the condition that my friend and chief instigator, Jenni, start one herself. I believe it can be found here.
This journal is also set up so that my partner, Supernumerary, may use it if he wishes, but I don't think he will. Nume is not particularly fond of sharing anything.
What to say? As I write this, it is midday, and so far we have not had an assignment. I do not trust the console's silence for one minute, but it has been a pleasant morning. I have been visiting the courtyard to conduct my daily rituals, and I have begun to notice an effect. The courtyard itself was a discovery I made some time ago, and it alone has done wonders for me. An Andalite needs space to run; we were not meant to live indoors. I find that I am much happier there, with Alice and the other horses various agents have rescued over the years for company. We race sometimes; Alice wins. Someday I may ask her permission to acquire her and a few of the others for a new morph. Then we shall see.
But, returning to the rituals. Something to mark the opening and closing of each day adds a significance that was previously lacking. Even if I miss one due to a mission, once I return to the routine again, it is reassuring. I do not know how much of this effect is attributable to my species—have we evolved to need structure?—or simply to my own, personal need. Whatever the reason, I feel more at peace with myself than I ever have before.
Orken, if you are reading this, I hope it does not trouble you to know that I am trying to become more like the Andalite you expected when we first met. It cannot change my opinion of you, my friend.