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Given my fondness for brivari, the joyful service of the goddess Li, and gambling, I would venture to say most people would call me one of the least people in control who grace this station of ours.

Naturally, they would be quite wrong.

One does not have to be a Minbari on the eternal chase for one less muscle to move and one more ritual to observe in order to exercise self-control. Attending a ceremony at the Royal Court will take care of this lesson very nicely, yes? If you are a member of the of the Noble Houses, you may, of course, indulge yourself. It is part of being a Centauri to celebrate life and its pleasures. But every single offspring of House Mollari has always been taught that the Republic comes first, followed by the Emperor, and then one's House. Neither the most potent brivari or the sweetest kiss by your truly beloved can ever make you forget this; that is what I learned as a young man. A life in politics has of course confirmed these lessons.

If one were to ask me when I have truly lost control of myself, my answer would not be any of those moments when I made certain decisions that I came to regret. Indeed, I made each of those in an entirely sober mood. I most certainly would not name the hours of love and passion fate has graced me with, for to surrender control there is the very point of the endeavour and indeed what one aims for, hm? A quite deliberate action. No, loss of control, to me, would mean to enter a state to which I had not agreed, and where none of the choices were mine anymore. Thankfully, this only happened once. I would rather not speak of the details; they matter only to me and G'Kar the other person involved. Suffice it to say that I do not look kindly on whoever invented a drug named "Dust".

But that event, horrendous at it was to me at the time, became a turning point in my relationship with that other person, unlikely as this was, and thus I cannot wish it undone. However....

*locked from everyone*

I have dreams. We all do, of course; every species. But we Centauri dream of our true endings, and sometimes we dream of more. My dreams have a nasty habit of turning into realities. In some of my dreams, I am an old man, clad in the imperial white, but that is not what disturbs me. What I feel in my dreams is similar to what I felt on the earlier occasion. My mind is no longer my own; nothing in it. There is no no place where I am alone, and in control of myself. It must be a reflection of the past, mingling with the future. For I refuse to consider the possibility that this might be real.

A state where I have utterly lost every control.


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July 2010

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