Memories - Extract III

I could easily pretend like it all meant nothing at all. Keeping cool and indifferent is not that hard after all. You just need to tell yourself that it does not matter, you only have to say it pretty often and then one day you will not need to repeat it anymore. At the end of the day, you sit there, by the fire, staring at the flames, drinking your tea and the only thing real in your loneliness will be the sword. So as you see it is not really hard to see nothing but that sword, it is even easier to feel nothing but that sword of yours. During the day it is no effort to blend out every other sound except the clank of the very same sword. It can become a matter of survival at times, to fully acknowledge nothing except your own sword. But still the heart keeps playing its own games and it is not impossible for it to win over the mind. And when the heart wins, you remember. You can tell yourself that you do not care, you can tell yourself that they are mere fragments of your past, which is out of your reach now, still your heart makes you remember that you cared, that you were swinging your sword, perfectly aware of the pain inflicted, inflicted on them and on yourself, aware of the suffering.