Chapter 153: Faestien And Maelle
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His attention returned moved from his unaware brother, and to the stranger talking to him.
They are talking so well.
He is getting envious of it. But who does he envy more? Even he couldn't tell it himself. He envies the stranger for talking to Xendros, and he envies Xendros for talking with the stranger.
Envy is a suffocating emotion that can not be erased no matter how much you distract yourself. But there is something more deeply grating, deeply disturbing compared to the carefully twisted and crafted envy in one's heart. It is like a thorny vine that grapples your lungs, making you want to pull yourself inside out, and torture the one you envy the same way as well.
But there's something more painful than normal envy.
False envy.
The feeling that you are merely forcing yourself to feel something. The reason may be because you are desperate to feel anything so strongly, and you cannot achieve great joy or bliss, so you seek darker emotions instead. Or.....
You are just bored.
Don't you hate it when you become pretentious because you are bored?
Many creative minds suffered from that. Faestien is one of them. Reading books that displayed such strong and sincere, heartfelt emotions can be so moving that you want to feel that too. You will grasp at straws just to feel it, or at least, make yourself believe you feel it. An obsession towards obsession.
Painted flowers last longer than real ones. So does painted love using lies last longer than the genuine one?
It's a riddle.
It doesn't make any sense, but it does. The answer is that you are pitiful in the end.
Whether you are the subject of false and painted love... Or the person who paints that. The liar. The liar hurts just as much as the one being lied to. The pretender is distraught the same way as the one who was fooled. Isn't it so tragic? How making ruined itself by making books about anything, storing knowledge in paper and having anyone have access to it, and eventually...
Delivering the knowledge of love to those who don't deserve it.
Faestien is one of those people who definitely does not deserve it.
Now that he knows how love works, he will try his best to feel love. He will cultivate it, mix concoctions of different emotions into a potion in that empty heart of his. A great alchemist. For what is love really, other than a mixture of joys and sorrows, which is easy to emulate?
And yet..... The concoction also feels toxic, burning into him.
Because the 'love' in his heart have no subject.
He thought it must be his unaware brother, the one he wanted to care for since he was a child. The one entrusted to him by that old man who experienced genuine love for himself and lost it. He wanted to test this artificial love made from studying love on Xendros.
But this stranger is a good option too. And now he must pick between the two, because according to his studies...
You can only love one person.
That sort of love in romantic books. There can only be one.
That is why it is so fulfilling to read. So wonderful as it is so false. These books feed your mind about the thought of loyalty, of undying romance that can last for hundreds of years. Not looking for anyone else, not thinking of anyone else. A devoted love. Unending love. Undying love.
Love, love, love.
How Faestien wants to love! To feel its pleasures and pains!
He can remember word for word a speech about pleasure and pain by a philosopher from Faldenhorf that stuck on his mind:
"But I must explain to you how all this mistaken idea of reprobating pleasure and extolling pain arose. To do so, I will give you a complete account of the system, and expound the actual teachings of the great explorer of the truth, the master-builder of human happiness."
"No one rejects, dislikes or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure, but because those who do not know how to pursue pleasure rationally encounter consequences that are extremely painful. Nor again is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain, but occasionally circumstances occur in which toil and pain can procure him some great pleasure. To take a trivial example, which of us ever undertakes laborious physical exercise, except to obtain some advantage from it?"
"But who has any right to find fault with a man who chooses to enjoy a pleasure that has no annoying consequences, or one who avoids a pain that produces no resultant pleasure? On the other hand, we denounce with righteous indignation and dislike men who are so beguiled and demoralized by the charms of pleasure of the moment, so blinded by desire, that they cannot foresee the pain and trouble that are bound to ensue; and equal blame belongs to those who fail in their duty through weakness of will, which is the same as saying through shrinking from toil and pain."
"These cases are perfectly simple and easy to distinguish. In a free hour, when our power of choice is untrammeled and when nothing prevents our being able to do what we like best, every pleasure is to be welcomed and every pain avoided. But in certain circumstances and owing to the claims of duty or the obligations of business it will frequently occur that pleasures have to be repudiated and annoyances accepted. The wise man therefore always holds in these matters to this principle of selection: he rejects pleasures to secure other greater pleasures, or else he endures pains to avoid worse pains."
What a bunch of wonderful nonsense, that speech was.
Just to add words upon words that sounded lovely.... That is the very beauty of fiction itself.
And for people to believe such nonsense is such a wonderful thing. Readers pay to be scammed, to be fooled by these writers who don't really have anything good to say. They pay them with their coins just to hear things that would not remain in their memory, and only make them feel good for a short while, escaping into a world of fantasies and fallacies.
Faestien wants to be a writer. A writer of life.
He will rite his own life to be as spectacular and nonsensical as he can, both because of pleasure and his pains from growing up in such a deranged and cemented environment.
He will keep adding words that don't make sense in his story. The words he says, the action he does.... All false, making him further loathe himself, and making the story even more interesting! It is a really perverse thing, his desire for self-destruction.
He will love the stranger, but keep Xendros hooked on his finger as well.
Not because he relishes hurting people.
But because he relishes hurting himself. It is a very selfish deed indeed.
Hurting anyone would hurt him. That is what he seeks. It is not sadistic, but masochistic. Extremely hedonistic, disguised as altruistic. Beautiful! Beautiful!
It does not make any sense, and it's beautiful!
He knows the stranger and Xendros will go to Crescentia. In his head, he devises a plan. A plan to make the stranger fall in love with him, and Xendros as well.
Oh right. If he was going to love him, he should remember his name.
Maelle.
Maelle.
Maelle.
Maelle.
Maelle.
Maelle.
Maelle.
Maelle.
Maelle.
Maelle.
It's fun to repeat it again and again, not for the sake of memorization, but for just simple fun.
He repeated the speech to his head again, as he imagined the things he will do to Maelle.
"But I must explain to you how all this mistaken idea of reprobating pleasure and extolling pain arose. To do so, I will give you a complete account of the system, and expound the actual teachings of the great explorer of the truth, the master-builder of human happiness."
"No one rejects, dislikes or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure, but because those who do not know how to pursue pleasure rationally encounter consequences that are extremely painful. Nor again is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain, but occasionally circumstances occur in which toil and pain can procure him some great pleasure. To take a trivial example, which of us ever undertakes laborious physical exercise, except to obtain some advantage from it?"
"But who has any right to find fault with a man who chooses to enjoy a pleasure that has no annoying consequences, or one who avoids a pain that produces no resultant pleasure? On the other hand, we denounce with righteous indignation and dislike men who are so beguiled and demoralized by the charms of pleasure of the moment, so blinded by desire, that they cannot foresee the pain and trouble that are bound to ensue; and equal blame belongs to those who fail in their duty through weakness of will, which is the same as saying through shrinking from toil and pain."
"These cases are perfectly simple and easy to distinguish. In a free hour, when our power of choice is untrammeled and when nothing prevents our being able to do what we like best, every pleasure is to be welcomed and every pain avoided. But in certain circumstances and owing to the claims of duty or the obligations of business it will frequently occur that pleasures have to be repudiated and annoyances accepted. The wise man therefore always holds in these matters to this principle of selection: he rejects pleasures to secure other greater pleasures, or else he endures pains to avoid worse pains."
What beautiful nonsense.....
Love is.
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His attention returned moved from his unaware brother, and to the stranger talking to him.
They are talking so well.
He is getting envious of it. But who does he envy more? Even he couldn't tell it himself. He envies the stranger for talking to Xendros, and he envies Xendros for talking with the stranger.
Envy is a suffocating emotion that can not be erased no matter how much you distract yourself. But there is something more deeply grating, deeply disturbing compared to the carefully twisted and crafted envy in one's heart. It is like a thorny vine that grapples your lungs, making you want to pull yourself inside out, and torture the one you envy the same way as well.
But there's something more painful than normal envy.
False envy.
The feeling that you are merely forcing yourself to feel something. The reason may be because you are desperate to feel anything so strongly, and you cannot achieve great joy or bliss, so you seek darker emotions instead. Or.....
You are just bored.
Don't you hate it when you become pretentious because you are bored?
Many creative minds suffered from that. Faestien is one of them. Reading books that displayed such strong and sincere, heartfelt emotions can be so moving that you want to feel that too. You will grasp at straws just to feel it, or at least, make yourself believe you feel it. An obsession towards obsession.
Painted flowers last longer than real ones. So does painted love using lies last longer than the genuine one?
It's a riddle.
It doesn't make any sense, but it does. The answer is that you are pitiful in the end.
Whether you are the subject of false and painted love... Or the person who paints that. The liar. The liar hurts just as much as the one being lied to. The pretender is distraught the same way as the one who was fooled. Isn't it so tragic? How making ruined itself by making books about anything, storing knowledge in paper and having anyone have access to it, and eventually...
Delivering the knowledge of love to those who don't deserve it.
Faestien is one of those people who definitely does not deserve it.
Now that he knows how love works, he will try his best to feel love. He will cultivate it, mix concoctions of different emotions into a potion in that empty heart of his. A great alchemist. For what is love really, other than a mixture of joys and sorrows, which is easy to emulate?
And yet..... The concoction also feels toxic, burning into him.
Because the 'love' in his heart have no subject.
He thought it must be his unaware brother, the one he wanted to care for since he was a child. The one entrusted to him by that old man who experienced genuine love for himself and lost it. He wanted to test this artificial love made from studying love on Xendros.
But this stranger is a good option too. And now he must pick between the two, because according to his studies...
You can only love one person.
That sort of love in romantic books. There can only be one.
That is why it is so fulfilling to read. So wonderful as it is so false. These books feed your mind about the thought of loyalty, of undying romance that can last for hundreds of years. Not looking for anyone else, not thinking of anyone else. A devoted love. Unending love. Undying love.
Love, love, love.
How Faestien wants to love! To feel its pleasures and pains!
He can remember word for word a speech about pleasure and pain by a philosopher from Faldenhorf that stuck on his mind:
"But I must explain to you how all this mistaken idea of reprobating pleasure and extolling pain arose. To do so, I will give you a complete account of the system, and expound the actual teachings of the great explorer of the truth, the master-builder of human happiness."
"No one rejects, dislikes or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure, but because those who do not know how to pursue pleasure rationally encounter consequences that are extremely painful. Nor again is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain, but occasionally circumstances occur in which toil and pain can procure him some great pleasure. To take a trivial example, which of us ever undertakes laborious physical exercise, except to obtain some advantage from it?"
"But who has any right to find fault with a man who chooses to enjoy a pleasure that has no annoying consequences, or one who avoids a pain that produces no resultant pleasure? On the other hand, we denounce with righteous indignation and dislike men who are so beguiled and demoralized by the charms of pleasure of the moment, so blinded by desire, that they cannot foresee the pain and trouble that are bound to ensue; and equal blame belongs to those who fail in their duty through weakness of will, which is the same as saying through shrinking from toil and pain."
"These cases are perfectly simple and easy to distinguish. In a free hour, when our power of choice is untrammeled and when nothing prevents our being able to do what we like best, every pleasure is to be welcomed and every pain avoided. But in certain circumstances and owing to the claims of duty or the obligations of business it will frequently occur that pleasures have to be repudiated and annoyances accepted. The wise man therefore always holds in these matters to this principle of selection: he rejects pleasures to secure other greater pleasures, or else he endures pains to avoid worse pains."
What a bunch of wonderful nonsense, that speech was.
Just to add words upon words that sounded lovely.... That is the very beauty of fiction itself.
And for people to believe such nonsense is such a wonderful thing. Readers pay to be scammed, to be fooled by these writers who don't really have anything good to say. They pay them with their coins just to hear things that would not remain in their memory, and only make them feel good for a short while, escaping into a world of fantasies and fallacies.
Faestien wants to be a writer. A writer of life.
He will rite his own life to be as spectacular and nonsensical as he can, both because of pleasure and his pains from growing up in such a deranged and cemented environment.
He will keep adding words that don't make sense in his story. The words he says, the action he does.... All false, making him further loathe himself, and making the story even more interesting! It is a really perverse thing, his desire for self-destruction.
He will love the stranger, but keep Xendros hooked on his finger as well.
Not because he relishes hurting people.
But because he relishes hurting himself. It is a very selfish deed indeed.
Hurting anyone would hurt him. That is what he seeks. It is not sadistic, but masochistic. Extremely hedonistic, disguised as altruistic. Beautiful! Beautiful!
It does not make any sense, and it's beautiful!
He knows the stranger and Xendros will go to Crescentia. In his head, he devises a plan. A plan to make the stranger fall in love with him, and Xendros as well.
Oh right. If he was going to love him, he should remember his name.
Maelle.
Maelle.
Maelle.
Maelle.
Maelle.
Maelle.
Maelle.
Maelle.
Maelle.
Maelle.
It's fun to repeat it again and again, not for the sake of memorization, but for just simple fun.
He repeated the speech to his head again, as he imagined the things he will do to Maelle.
"But I must explain to you how all this mistaken idea of reprobating pleasure and extolling pain arose. To do so, I will give you a complete account of the system, and expound the actual teachings of the great explorer of the truth, the master-builder of human happiness."
"No one rejects, dislikes or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure, but because those who do not know how to pursue pleasure rationally encounter consequences that are extremely painful. Nor again is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain, but occasionally circumstances occur in which toil and pain can procure him some great pleasure. To take a trivial example, which of us ever undertakes laborious physical exercise, except to obtain some advantage from it?"
"But who has any right to find fault with a man who chooses to enjoy a pleasure that has no annoying consequences, or one who avoids a pain that produces no resultant pleasure? On the other hand, we denounce with righteous indignation and dislike men who are so beguiled and demoralized by the charms of pleasure of the moment, so blinded by desire, that they cannot foresee the pain and trouble that are bound to ensue; and equal blame belongs to those who fail in their duty through weakness of will, which is the same as saying through shrinking from toil and pain."
"These cases are perfectly simple and easy to distinguish. In a free hour, when our power of choice is untrammeled and when nothing prevents our being able to do what we like best, every pleasure is to be welcomed and every pain avoided. But in certain circumstances and owing to the claims of duty or the obligations of business it will frequently occur that pleasures have to be repudiated and annoyances accepted. The wise man therefore always holds in these matters to this principle of selection: he rejects pleasures to secure other greater pleasures, or else he endures pains to avoid worse pains."
What beautiful nonsense.....
Love is.
His attention returned moved from his unaware brother, and to the stranger talking to him.They are talking so well.He is getting envious of it. But who does he envy more? Even he couldn't tell it himself. He envies the stranger for talking to Xendros, and he envies Xendros for talking with the stranger. Envy is a suffocating emotion that can not be erased no matter how much you distract yourself. But there is something more deeply grating, deeply disturbing compared to the carefully twisted and crafted envy in one's heart. It is like a thorny vine that grapples your lungs, making you want to pull yourself inside out, and torture the one you envy the same way as well.But there's something more painful than normal envy.False envy.The feeling that you are merely forcing yourself to feel something. The reason may be because you are desperate to feel anything so strongly, and you cannot achieve great joy or bliss, so you seek darker emotions instead. Or.....You are just bored.Don't you hate it when you become pretentious because you are bored?Many creative minds suffered from that. Faestien is one of them. Reading books that displayed such strong and sincere, heartfelt emotions can be so moving that you want to feel that too. You will grasp at straws just to feel it, or at least, make yourself believe you feel it. An obsession towards obsession.Painted flowers last longer than real ones. So does painted love using lies last longer than the genuine one?It's a riddle.It doesn't make any sense, but it does. The answer is that you are pitiful in the end.Whether you are the subject of false and painted love... Or the person who paints that. The liar. The liar hurts just as much as the one being lied to. The pretender is distraught the same way as the one who was fooled. Isn't it so tragic? How making ruined itself by making books about anything, storing knowledge in paper and having anyone have access to it, and eventually...Delivering the knowledge of love to those who don't deserve it.Faestien is one of those people who definitely does not deserve it. Now that he knows how love works, he will try his best to feel love. He will cultivate it, mix concoctions of different emotions into a potion in that empty heart of his. A great alchemist. For what is love really, other than a mixture of joys and sorrows, which is easy to emulate?And yet..... The concoction also feels toxic, burning into him.Because the 'love' in his heart have no subject.He thought it must be his unaware brother, the one he wanted to care for since he was a child. The one entrusted to him by that old man who experienced genuine love for himself and lost it. He wanted to test this artificial love made from studying love on Xendros.But this stranger is a good option too. And now he must pick between the two, because according to his studies...You can only love one person.That sort of love in romantic books. There can only be one.That is why it is so fulfilling to read. So wonderful as it is so false. These books feed your mind about the thought of loyalty, of undying romance that can last for hundreds of years. Not looking for anyone else, not thinking of anyone else. A devoted love. Unending love. Undying love.Love, love, love.How Faestien wants to love! To feel its pleasures and pains!He can remember word for word a speech about pleasure and pain by a philosopher from Faldenhorf that stuck on his mind:"But I must explain to you how all this mistaken idea of reprobating pleasure and extolling pain arose. To do so, I will give you a complete account of the system, and expound the actual teachings of the great explorer of the truth, the master-builder of human happiness.""No one rejects, dislikes or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure, but because those who do not know how to pursue pleasure rationally encounter consequences that are extremely painful. Nor again is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain, but occasionally circumstances occur in which toil and pain can procure him some great pleasure. To take a trivial example, which of us ever undertakes laborious physical exercise, except to obtain some advantage from it?""But who has any right to find fault with a man who chooses to enjoy a pleasure that has no annoying consequences, or one who avoids a pain that produces no resultant pleasure? On the other hand, we denounce with righteous indignation and dislike men who are so beguiled and demoralized by the charms of pleasure of the moment, so blinded by desire, that they cannot foresee the pain and trouble that are bound to ensue; and equal blame belongs to those who fail in their duty through weakness of will, which is the same as saying through shrinking from toil and pain.""These cases are perfectly simple and easy to distinguish. In a free hour, when our power of choice is untrammeled and when nothing prevents our being able to do what we like best, every pleasure is to be welcomed and every pain avoided. But in certain circumstances and owing to the claims of duty or the obligations of business it will frequently occur that pleasures have to be repudiated and annoyances accepted. The wise man therefore always holds in these matters to this principle of selection: he rejects pleasures to secure other greater pleasures, or else he endures pains to avoid worse pains."What a bunch of wonderful nonsense, that speech was. Just to add words upon words that sounded lovely.... That is the very beauty of fiction itself.And for people to believe such nonsense is such a wonderful thing. Readers pay to be scammed, to be fooled by these writers who don't really have anything good to say. They pay them with their coins just to hear things that would not remain in their memory, and only make them feel good for a short while, escaping into a world of fantasies and fallacies.Faestien wants to be a writer. A writer of life.He will rite his own life to be as spectacular and nonsensical as he can, both because of pleasure and his pains from growing up in such a deranged and cemented environment.He will keep adding words that don't make sense in his story. The words he says, the action he does.... All false, making him further loathe himself, and making the story even more interesting! It is a really perverse thing, his desire for self-destruction.He will love the stranger, but keep Xendros hooked on his finger as well.Not because he relishes hurting people.But because he relishes hurting himself. It is a very selfish deed indeed.Hurting anyone would hurt him. That is what he seeks. It is not sadistic, but masochistic. Extremely hedonistic, disguised as altruistic. Beautiful! Beautiful!It does not make any sense, and it's beautiful!He knows the stranger and Xendros will go to Crescentia. In his head, he devises a plan. A plan to make the stranger fall in love with him, and Xendros as well.Oh right. If he was going to love him, he should remember his name.Maelle.Maelle.Maelle.Maelle.Maelle.Maelle.Maelle.Maelle.Maelle.Maelle.It's fun to repeat it again and again, not for the sake of memorization, but for just simple fun.He repeated the speech to his head again, as he imagined the things he will do to Maelle."But I must explain to you how all this mistaken idea of reprobating pleasure and extolling pain arose. To do so, I will give you a complete account of the system, and expound the actual teachings of the great explorer of the truth, the master-builder of human happiness.""No one rejects, dislikes or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure, but because those who do not know how to pursue pleasure rationally encounter consequences that are extremely painful. Nor again is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain, but occasionally circumstances occur in which toil and pain can procure him some great pleasure. To take a trivial example, which of us ever undertakes laborious physical exercise, except to obtain some advantage from it?""But who has any right to find fault with a man who chooses to enjoy a pleasure that has no annoying consequences, or one who avoids a pain that produces no resultant pleasure? On the other hand, we denounce with righteous indignation and dislike men who are so beguiled and demoralized by the charms of pleasure of the moment, so blinded by desire, that they cannot foresee the pain and trouble that are bound to ensue; and equal blame belongs to those who fail in their duty through weakness of will, which is the same as saying through shrinking from toil and pain.""These cases are perfectly simple and easy to distinguish. In a free hour, when our power of choice is untrammeled and when nothing prevents our being able to do what we like best, every pleasure is to be welcomed and every pain avoided. But in certain circumstances and owing to the claims of duty or the obligations of business it will frequently occur that pleasures have to be repudiated and annoyances accepted. The wise man therefore always holds in these matters to this principle of selection: he rejects pleasures to secure other greater pleasures, or else he endures pains to avoid worse pains."What beautiful nonsense.....Love is.
