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this is not freedom

Created on 2007-12-19 06:45:41 (#14491550), last updated 2008-02-04

61 comments received, 154 comments posted

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7 Journal Entries, 22 Tags, 0 Memories, <10 ScrapBook Files, 0 Virtual Gifts, 15 Userpics

Basic Info

Name:	Sabaku Temari
Birthdate:	08-23

Bio

I'm not interested in preserving the status quo; I want to overthrow it.

T E M A R IBeing royal was not just a title, but a part. And that part, as Temari learned from an early age, was not an easy one to play. She grew up without a father (the man who called himself that simply used the title for his own political advancement) and her mother disappeared when she was the age of three only to be replaced by a large, scary looking man whom she came to regard as the only real “guardian” in her life. However, a dead mother and a father-who-was-anything-but-what-the-term-suggested didn’t mean she was allowed to show any type of sadness. No; as a proper, upstanding young woman in a high-class family (royalty, to boot), she was not allowed to cry. She was not allowed to feel sorry for herself. She was only to stand tall, stay still, and not utter a word or allow an emotion to flicker across her face.

And so, as days slowly progressed into years, Temari learned how to hide most of the sadness she felt—it wasn’t like her family was normal and she could depend on them—and replace it with anger, sheer sarcasm, and bitter cynicism that would make even Oscar Wilde cringe with delight. Her private tutors hated having to deal with her, as they could only take so many biting remarks and clicks of a tongue and a sneer of a grin that was anything but kind. Even her guardian could only take so much, and eventually suggested she venture out into the real world and be allowed to socialize with other kids her age. And while her father was reluctant (after all, she was supposed to be perfect, and perfection could not be flawed by foreign ideas), she was allowed to attend a prestigious school in England, before getting kicked out and being enrolled in a private school closer to home in Tokyo, where all the “regular,” noble, well-to-do kids went.

Although Temari wasn’t a model student, behavior wise (she couldn’t get used to the snobby, rich-kid outlook all the other students had—she honestly had enough with herself), she was an excellent student academically and gained many recognitions as top of her class. Not that it really mattered to her. Being best in her class when compared to kids that didn’t care whether or not they managed to score something close to passing because their parents could buy their way through university was anything but satisfying. Fortunately enough, even if she hadn’t been born with a title that guaranteed her anything she ever wanted, she was offered a seat at the University of Tokyo, where she currently majors in political science while juggling foreign delegate responsibilities as well as a demanding ferret that seeks far too much attention for his own good.

NOT REAL
after a while you learn the subtle difference between holding hands and chaining a soul. and you learn that love doesn't mean leaning and company doesn't mean security. and you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts and presents aren't promises. and you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes open. with the grace of an adult, and not the grief of a child. and you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans, and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight. after awhile you learn that sunshine burns if you get too much, so you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul instead of waiting for someone to bring flowers. and you learn that you really can endure... that you really are strong, and that you really do have worth. and you learn and learn and learn... with every goodbye you learn...

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