There’s no light on the horizon, friend.

Those bastards saw right through me... Then turn to ask why I’m so fucking divided.

They’ll mull it over, I’ll put myself back together. I always do. It’s fucked the way they treat their muses.

I tried telling them I’m not amused.

They didn’t get it. They never do. Such humor is wasted upon them. Laughing is my only friend.

They’ll ink their propaganda with the foul tar I have for blood - only saying what I’ve held inside all along- all alone.

Obey.

They write a message and the masses will eat from their palms as they guide them to the pit. Like the good little obedient dogs they’ve become.

I wish things could be different and that one day I could go home.

I know that home is no more - torn apart by those wretched things that I’ve created.

I can’t wait to watch that shit they call a sky shatter when they realize… that blood isn’t mine.

“Pretty things cannot be powerful”

You say as you gaze at the sea

And that is the foolishness of man

You look into the horizon and assume nothing is past it because you cannot see anything past it

You look at women as “muses” as pieces of pretty art to be fought over

You post (scream- bellow until your voice is hoarse) your propaganda in the streets because you are afraid of the PEOPLE finding out the truth

Men insist upon destruction, so drunk on the idea of power they forget to leave any for anyone else

(Yes sweet girl, they steal your God-given power)

Ah yes, destruction is their favorite game (How many women have massacred villages? Started wars? Raped and murdered their lovers?)

And the destroyer, the SINNER.

Hates the the healer The god

(That’s why the hate us sweet girl. We are everything they pretend to be)

The Horizon summoned the Moon, yet the Moon would not fall.

This perplexed the Horizon. The Moon always abided by her commands.

Alright fine, she thought. If he won’t listen to me, I’ll lure him down with my beauty. I shall become his muse.

With that, the Horizon erupted in an array of colors. Hues of pink and purple and orange swirled around in her belly.

Creatures and men below turned to gaze at the phenomenon. Yet the Moon did not bat an eye.

“What is your problem?” The Horizon hissed at him. “You’re going to mess everything up!”

“I’m finished giving into your cosmic propaganda,” the moon responded.

“What’s that supposed the mean?”

“It means,” the Moon said, “that there is no reason that the Sun should be allowed out for 14 hours and I only 10. It’s not fair.”

“That’s just the way it is,” said the Horizon. “Now stop this nonsense and get down here. The Sun is ready to come up.”

“Why can’t we share the sky?” the Moon grumbled. “I get lonely during the day and I’m sure the Sun does as well. Can I stay up with him just for the day?”

The Horizon pondered the Moon’s request. The Sun had complained to her previously about the loneliness he experienced from having to hold the sky alone. Having two extraterrestrial bodies share the sky had never been done before, but the universe would keep turning if she allowed the Moon to stay up there with him.

“I will grant your request,” the Horizon decided. “But you two better behave yourselves.”

“Oh thank you, thank you!” The Moon cried. After million of millions of years, she finally got to share her sky!

From that point forward, the Moon and Sun shared the daytime skies together and were visible for all men and creature to view.

I live on the the moon. Our job is to grant the nightmares of mortals, we are taught to take their biggest fears and plague their dreams. Tonight is the night I escape this nightmare. Go to a place over the horizon and beyond the stars, to a place no one here will ever think to find me. I can’t keep doing this routine everyday. The things I see, can’t be undone. I wish I could erase the memories, but I can’t. We aren’t ever allowed to let the mortals have a moment of peace. We get fuel from their pain, if not enough morals are in pain, we can die. I don’t want to die nor my people, but I can’t stand all the pain we cause others just because we are too cowardly. I know that if I still have my crystal with me, I can live and prosper throughout the day. I just can’t live on the moon where we torcher innocent people. It isn’t right. I need to break free. I will do it tonight. I have to do if tonight. I cannot let myself be caught and trapped again. I will escape and go to the promise land. It’s somewhere everyone who is anyone can live, the nebula. The elders all say that it’s a made up legend and their nothing out their, but I can hear the muses songs of wonder, so it has to be real. That’s why I stole the map to the nebula. I’m going to my ship in 5 mins, follow the map and reaching the nebula in three days time.

I have reached my ship with one bag of previsions and and one bag clothes for the three day trip. I made sure to soak up a lot of sadness and pain from the mortals into my necklace to last me three days. It is just enough time for me to reach the nebula and not need to make many stops on the way. Since the nebula supplies whatever you need to survive automatically, I won’t need to grant nightmares ever again. Getting into the ship, I made sure to be as quiet as possible while going, as too not make too much noise. I made it into my ship and began the course. I looked at the map and rocketed in that direction. Off we go, to my new home, leaving this propaganda filled world behind me.

It has been three days since I left, and I have made it to the nebula. It is absolutely breathtaking and so full of life. I see creatures and people of all the planets. Seems like they wanted some freedom as well. I’m happy that I came here.

It’s been three years now since I have arrived to the nebula. I have met some amazing friends. One’s a daydreamer, the other is a star caster and another is a sunlight. I have more, but these are my best friends. I do miss my family at times, but I love this place. I’m so happy I came to the nebula.

I always saw the horizon and I wanted to fly away. I needed to go to see more of it. Today, I take my flight for the first time. My dragon is ready and so am I. We will finally take off and leave the nest. Behind me, my mother is crying quietly. My father is disappointed and maybe a bit proud. Or at least I hope he is. I want him to be. After all, beyond the horizon might be war and glory. Or maybe if the Muses don’t help me, I’m flying to my death. I look back one last time at my village and I smile. I’m so happy to go, whatever the end of my story, I will finally live. I am finally leaving. I know I shouldn’t be only happy, that some part of me should be sad for that life I reject, but I can’t help but falling ahead rather than looking behind me. I can’t wait for the lift off. I have dreamed of this moment since I first saw the propaganda on the walls of the tavern. Raising a dragon to join the guard. That was a task for me. I pet Thunder and give her a bite of meat. I can’t help but be proud. She’s kind but deadly, and I trained her well. Or at least I hope so. I will know soon. The masters will tell me for sure. And then, I see them come. From all around the valley, dragons fly and come to the shore where I was alone an instant before. Ten shiny dragons, sometimes even equipped like horses. Poor dragons. Why use them as animals when you could celebrate and respect them. Be their friends like Thunder is mine. She looks at them with pity, or at least that’s what I think. Among all, only one doesn’t have a leash of some fashion. I smile at the rider without seeing him, his head being hidden behind a hood. “Gather round, riders!” Cry an old man I don’t recognise. “I think that’s everyone. “Who are you, old man?” Ask a rider, still perched on his dragon? “I am the one to decide if you are worthy or not.” The man answer without a flinch. “And you, might not yet be.” I smile discreetly. I hope his arrogance will be met. Always pay respect to your elders, that’s what his father told him. “And you, young man,” the old man points a stick at me now. “You should wipe that sneaky smile of your face.” “Sorry, sir. I won’t do it again.” “No you won’t, or I will strike you and kick you out.” I straighten and look at Thunda. She watches me like she knows better. But maybe she does. Sometimes, when I look at her, I feel like she is way older than me. Like she has lived a thousand lives. Like she can remember all of them. But dragons are not phenixes, right?

As I sit upon my throne at the top of the mountain I sit and stare into the horizon. The light is absolutely beautiful, a rarity in this ice age. The frozen wasteland is truly a barren and harsh place to live. This winter was absolutely brutal and most of my people had to survive indoors and on their own. This was truly a humbling year; as we lost a lot of good men and women to the blizzard from the north God. We were ready though, as the Muses predicted this would be a very hard year.

We did not expect to be hurled with this much snow though. Several months in a row the sun was blocked by harsh hail and frigid temperatures. During the spring and summer years we gathered an exorbitant amount of food. We also inlaid the huts with extra fur and pelts that we hunted. This was something that we had not tried before; usually we do not need to cover the insides of the wooden huts. The wood has hardened to the point that they are harder than most rocks and have a thick layer of ice on the outside of the huts. Some have sadly cracked and the people inside did not make it. Though, we attribute that to them not hunting enough pelts or treating the wood with the sap of the God Tree.

The land we live in used to be green and warm. Though that has now been close to 45 years ago. We have endured this winter for quite some time. Our stockpile of food ran dry long ago and we have resorted to hunting the large creatures that thrive in this weather. Large mammoths, carnivores, and other creatures roam the vast wasteland though we do not know where they get their food they seem to always be well fed. When we have to go out for a hunt it takes all the healthy men in the village to take out these animals. We always lose a few good men, but in the end their sacrifice is not in vain. We use their meat to feed the dogs we need to hunt. We use their bones to make strong armor and skin parchment.

We have been pushing propaganda saying the winter is almost nigh; but this is a complete and utter lie. We have no idea when this winter is going to end. Though I have hope in my heart with this beautiful sunrise we will so be ending this tormented winter. I fear that if this lasts much longer my reign will come to an end. The people are sick of waiting for paradise to come back; to be honest I do not blame them. We will continue this for possibly another year; if not we may need to make the decision to leave and find new lands. Though, none of us know what is beyond our land. We will hopefully make it; if not, maybe we were not longed to live in this world.

“A sloop has been spotted on the horizon,” the first mate proclaimed to his captain. “Looks to be a great prize!”

Captain Bloodstone turned from his Bible reading, slapping the book onto his bed. “Huzzah!” He crowed. “At last! The Lord has turned His face to us!”

The crew of the Vixen burst into activity. Furling and unfurling sails, preparing weapons, consulting the wind, swabbing slippery spots on the deck.

The attack was taken with barely a drop of blood, to everyone’s relief. Gold, silver and rum were loaded on board.

“Captain, what will we do with this one?” A crew member asked.

He pushed forward a young man wearing a paint-stained apron and three comely ladies.

“Please don’t kill us,” the young man, who called himself Edward, said. “I am an artist and if you’d like I can paint your portrait. I am world famous!”

The Captain’s eyes swiveled to the ladies. “And who be your lady folk?”

“My muses,” the artist said. “They come with me everywhere I go. They inspire my art.”

Captain Bloodstone stroked his beard. “Lucky man,”. He said. “I’ve always wanted me portrait painted.”

The artist bowed. “It would be a great honor,” Edward said. “And if you don’t mind me saying, you are not the murderous fiend that the news sheets proclaim.”

“T’is all propaganda,” Bloodstone said. “Let me find you some suitable quarters.”

Natasha shivered as the sea breeze tickled her arms. She took another step forward, and the ice cold water licked her toes. She gasped, but gritted her teeth, continuing to move forward.

“You will not find what you are looking for out there.”

She whipped around. An old man stood behind her, his timeless eyes boring into hers. She would recognize him anywhere - his photograph was plastered on every wall in the city. Leader Jeff. She had never met him. She only knew of him through the stories told, extolling him as a god. But here he was, just a man.

“You think that there is something beyond the horizon. You’ve begun seeing visions of a better world. That world does not exist.” He said. She froze. That’s exactly what had happened. He took advantage of her moment’s hesitation and continued.

“They call themselves the Muses. But I call them for what they are - demons. Demons who invade vulnerable minds, poisoning them with visions of a so-called better life. Visions designed to lure them to their death. It is dangerous propaganda. Luckily, we can cure you of this ailment, but you must return with us to the city to do so.” She suddenly saw dozens of eyes leap out of the darkness of the forest behind him.

“Stay away from me.” She took a step backward into the water and he quickly took one forward.

“You are sick, Natasha. Very sick. Let me help you.” He said.

Vulnerable mind.

She remembered being struck with the fire stick in training a week ago. She remembered screaming, the fire ripping through her body. After Jonah had struck her, he had jumped on top of her. She thought he was trying to help, but he just pinned her arms as the fire raged through her. He had leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Soon, you’ll understand. Trust what you see.”

The next thing she remembered was waking up in the hospital. Something was different. Everything looked and felt like it was decaying. The walls were stained and crumbling, the people were half-skeletons.

Every night after that, she dreamt of an oasis, with endless meadows and full green pastures, brightness and freedom. All those dreams would start with her flying beyond the horizon.

She had pretended everything was fine and normal, but she felt a deeper and deeper depression each day, seeing the dreariness and decay of everything around her. She felt an inherent distrust of everyone around her, and felt a strong revulsion at every painting of Leader Jeff.

It didn’t help that Jonah had disappeared. She couldn’t tell anyone what was happening. She decided she needed answers and couldn’t continue living like this. That’s what took her to the edge of the ocean that night.

“No,” she said, “you’re the sick one. You’re all sick.” A flash of anger struck his eyes. He was not used to any challenge. As he took another step forward, Natasha felt a soft hand caressing hers. It was comforting. She heard a melodic, motherly voice in her head.

“Come.”

She didn’t hesitate. In a graceful, swift motion, she leaped into the water and didn’t look back.

Sun lounging Sun pounding Always wishing Alswady wanting Falling through space Searching for sound The emptiness we leave behind The tide is rising As the shadows fade to black Rolling out the carpet for the born to burn

No memories haunting me Ruddied Work is a machine Purple dreams Life is a machine However far

That girl afar I love that girl to mars That girl afar

No memories Your move is me

It’s bee. So card Your wet dream

Life is a machine

I need to work on storing my monitors better I forget the core of my memories The ice breaking in the fender of my truck After getting out of the store Where we’re we ?

Put me in your eyes See your eyes Is it ever gonna chances Put me in your eyes Put me in your eyes Put me in your eyes Put me in your eyes

Oregon? Is it ever gonna change? Forever? Am I gonna feel this way Are you gonna be there for me Forever

Mobbing through the road to get to the camp site Spongecore vibes

Doing 80 do n a neighborhood Haunted in every way Driving drunk down the freeway I’m fucking stupid More than fucking useless

Broken glass And crashing Leave me littered all over the room

Life me up
paranoia is a virtue Letting go for the fun of it Those changes get me static I don’t mean to get over dramatic

Where did it go PleSe give it back My heart is on the floor Crawling in your place I can’t help this paranoia

Crashing. All around me Giving me a platform Staring at me from the outside Irresponsible Alone

Throw it in the trash I think that I am wrong Where we’re you when I needed you the most HeRtless Heartless That’s all you’ll ever be I don’t mean to be dramatic These fades are on the side Being melodramatic

I’m sorry we found ourself in the trays The ants are leaving us hcrsgged here Hnxer the lost