Ranerdis

I am doing a project (you’ll see later, I promise) and these are the awesome things I ran into (this will grow, I’m sure). Some you’ll have seen, I’m sure (perhaps all) but some were new to me.

my tumblr is getting close to its 1 year birthday! awwww! It’s so adorabszzzzzzz.

Anyway, I’ve been horribly lax in writing lately, but I just haven’t really found anything to say or reblog or anything. I’ll search teh interwebz for cool stuff soon, but right now I have three etsy orders to fill, so I can’t really spend a lot of time mulling over humanity. 

<3

it’s not fair that I have two papers and a final on the same day.

it’s not fair that I basically have to decide which class is worth trying to do well in.

it’s not fair that I only have an hour until my exam and I’m wholly unprepared.

and the most unfair thing of all is that 

actually

it is quite fair.

I’m the one being unreasonable.

The Princess’ Sympathy

Once upon a time, in a land far far away—but not so very long or so very far—there lived a King and a Queen. Like all Kings and Queens, they wanted an heir They wished and wished and their hearts were so pure that one spring, their prayers were answered. The Queen gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, with hair so gold it seemed to sing and with the sweetest temper in all the world. 

Now, you may not know this, because your parents may have forgotten to tell you, or theirs to tell them, but long ago everyone knew that Sympathy had a limit. Each person, when born, is given a finite amount of Sympathy to use over the span of their life. Long ago and far away, probably longer and further than anyone you know can remember, everyone knew this. But of course, things are forgotten with time, sometimes the most important things of all.

Anyway, when the Princess was born, she was given three times the Sympathy of an average person. She truly was born perfect, gentle and sweet, innocent and charming; with her rosy lips and golden hair she was rather regarded as a national treasure. 

And she was so understanding. That’s because of all the Sympathy, you see. She would listen to anyone’s troubles and give them the very best advice that she could. She would spend most of her days (when not embroidering and singing and other princessy things) drying the tears of her subjects and listening to all of their problems and grievances. She would weep inconsolably for the most insignificant of her subjects. By the time the princess was fourteen, she was beginning to feel weary. At sixteen, she got her first wrinkle. 

A few of the kingdom’s fairies (every kingdom has fairies, you know) noticed this and decided that they needed to do something about it. At the rate that she was going, the princess would run out of Sympathy in her early twenties, in spite of the abundance she was given at birth. And a harsh, unSympathetic princess is almost worse than one that trusts unconditionally.

One night, while the princess lay sleeping, the fairies took away her Sympathy. They rolled it up in a ball and hid it far under the sea, to be returned to the princess when she (and the kingdom) were ready. When the princess woke up, she experienced every emotion that she hadn’t had the time for in the past years. She was angry for no reason, sad beyond hope, hungry, tired, and greedy. She stayed in bed with the complaint of a headache. 

Three weeks later, she was still in bed. Her parents were extremely worried for, as far as they knew, she had run out of Sympathy and this was as she would be for the rest of her life. And it was tormenting her. Inside, she knew what her actions were causing. How her greed was starving the kingdom, that her cruel words hurt people’s feelings. Yet she had no voice of Sympathy to stop her from continuing in this manner. And it was tearing her apart.

Most of her suiters grew disgusted and left, but one young man could see her truly, for he loved her, and he knew that she was suffering beyond repair. So, he gave her his Sympathy. He let her heap all of her problems on him and said nothing unkind or harsh. He could feel himself growing weary with her words, but he felt that it was a sacrifice he had to make. It wasn’t long before the fairies noticed the line forming on his brow and knew they had to take action once again.

So, they spread throughout the kingdom a rumour. They started the peasants saying that the princess had had her Sympathy stolen in the dark of night and that the country would never be the same until it could be recovered. They were trying to give the citizens the gift of Hope, but the villagers devoured Hope straightaway and began to search for someone to find the lost Sympathy. 

It wasn’t long before the Prince heard of the lost Sympathy and set out to find it. It was hard, for he was so tired. He’d lost more than half of his Sympathy to the Princess, so it was slowly that he set out, and with sword and shield at his side, rather than raised to the sun. Bearing the hopes and dreams of the whole town, the Prince rode off across the country and down to the sea. 

The story of the Prince’s journey to the sea is long and for another day. Suffice to say that he arrived alive (though not wholly unscathed) and found himself looking into the sea without any way of knowing how he was to retrieve the Sympathy. He let his fingers touch the water and saw his own Sympathy washing away in the cool liquid, tinged with the light of Hope. Thinking he needed to give his Sympathy in order to win back hers, he thrust his hands into the sea. The Sympathy was sucked away, but he received nothing in return. In that moment, a moment of utter hopelessness and misery at the knowledge that he had let down the girl he loved, yes loved, the Prince let go. He sank into the sand and let his tears wind their way into the sea.

And, as tears of love always somehow seem to, this began a change. The water in the sea began to sparkle and turn to mist. It parted until there was a path straight to a glowing orb, which was surely the Princess’ Sympathy. He dashed (as best he could) down the path, fighting against himself, for he was out of Sympathy. He wanted to turn back and find something warm to eat. He didn’t care about anyone. Anyone except… he felt the tears still wet on his cheeks and realised that he didn’t need anything but love to give him strength. He swept the glowing orb into his cloak, jumped back onto his horse, and rode back to the castle as fast as possible. 

The Prince returned the Sympathy to the Princess and they were married. They divided the Sympathy into small pieces for her to bear, for the Prince had discovered on his journey that pure Sympathy leaves no room for Love and that Sympathy without Love is nothing but a burden. The Princess was able to find a balance between selfless and selfish, love and pity, trust and wisdom. And, of course, they lived happily ever after.

______________________________________________________________________

don’t judge. I scribbled that down after a day of running around like a chicken with its head off and I’m still not entirely certain it makes sense. What’s important is that I didn’t forget to write it down. Thank goodness for that. Anyway, it’s cheesy and clichéd, but I don’t really care. I mean, it deviated a lot from its intended “moral” so, I don’t care that it developed that silly “love will conquer all” thing or even that weird Buddhist thing at the end. Whatever. I wash my hands of it. It was just an exploration. Jeez.