Revelations of the purpose of this journal

This gay-blood boy sayeth me one day " By God's grace wilt thou promise me to never ever repeat that I am gay'? when I went onto his shack on the nude. Begineth this story from the beginning I shalt account. That day I did not have any garments on and disappeared from my chambers to another point in the kingdom hundreds of miles away from where I lived. This was done by enchantment on the holydays people liketh to commemorate some holly week. The maliciously damned witch-sorceress Kila may responsible be for the deed. (I shall sayeth the story of our sinister past some other time). Firstly, I am in without garments walking around some neighborhood and I remarketh strange perspirations of knights around me with dissorbited and surprised eyes. One of them was strangely unrestful and perspirateth him heavily by different areas of his limbs (note: I peek swiftly but I knew something was afoot and I hast more pressing things in my minds anyway). How to vengeance this affront madeth by Kila? How to be light as a feather and quick as cat? How could I rescue my fabulous collection of fabelis from her claws? I suddenly see his shack and enter the door. To my surprise I perceive a journal in an afeminate chamber and I looked round (it is the same journal in which I now write). I write in this journal a message for someone to aid me, (to Sir Urience) when unexpectedly the boy enters his shack and I get caught. I notice his face did not the resemble perspirated as the knight from moments ago, nor his eyes art unorbited with surprise but evenly half closed and wore a weird smile in the face. (He showed me all his teeth). He cometh forth to subject me to physical punishment and I sayeth him what I cannot tell: for I knew not how I came into this shack if it were not by enchantment I also told him I 'll say the world thou keep a blond wig and a red maiden's garment in thy closet, a phallus prosthesis on top of thy chest smelling like thy rubbish and manuscripts of a communal activity between men under thine pillows. By God's grace wilt thou promise me to never ever repeat that I am gay.. sayeth he . To which I replied: "I am the most discrete of maidens and most innocent of damsels (I was concealing my true identity, ha,ha,ha). "Thou be of good heart" , sayeth he, "and tomorrow at the dawn of day ye shall know more." Thou I bet I shall know more. I learned the name of his alter ego: Danielle, to which his parents have named also "Irma" but that he cleverly changed because of the copyrights and lawsuits.
- Damsel, thou must understand that thou art my prisoner and I know thee well, thou art Morgana Anakina Beatrix Black yet now I am resolved to have thee to serve me. To which I sayeth : Truly fair knight, in all my life never so ill. Although if I do as ye advise, thou wilt help me out of this distress and thou shalt go to the great Sir Urience to send for me and rescue me.?" "For there is also a great danger bound upon us: the damned sorceress Kila is outside this shack at this hour and with her great deadly weapon, none thou shalt live forth nor from this place shalt escape.
--Fair maiden... sayeth he then, tell me first of Sir Urience's condition., hast he found bride or love? Arrangeth for him to ride ten miles forth unto an abbey of white monks and there abide until I bringeth my good fortune in before thou shalt art delivered from this place . I shall do him all, the service I am able on that day, wilt him answer thee on that errand?"
Later, he confessed round my Sir Tom's love-life and his passions for him. HIS obssesion (Sir Irma Danielle's) for courting all the knights at his court. HIS hate toward his own mother and his initiations in this great art of hating maidens and interpret them at his own will. My mouth and face were not the same afterwards, the memory of that conversation haunts me still. I swiftly stoleth the journal and escapeth running from the shack. Later on, collapsed and standeth again to materialize luckily onto my chambers. Forgot partially what happened until recently when sight of him I had again and this shall be accounted for in another hour. Swore that fateful journal shalt public ride ass edict. On thy holy name God Janos, Ahem, Ahem.