Outlander

Outlander

Some of them called it the “Acquisition”, others like the druids called it the “Conjunction”, I just call it a hot mess. An earlier me would call it the hot mess express. A later me would just say wtf is this how in the word did we end up here...there's no way. But if there's a will there's a way. There's no way to learn from this , we just learn to deal with it. Are morals are so compromised we have become desensitized, almost to the brink of extinction. “Death”. Every waking second is like a chance to purge our suffering but we choose to indulge the madness. To give into our whims and misguided notions that are primarily driven by fear, paranoia, psychosis, and sometimes hate. Buddha says holding onto anger is like drinking poison and excepting someone else to die. We were all drinking, and waiting for something to happen but when it never did, all the more reason for us to turn a blind eye. If there was honor among thieves it was at the behest of another's misery, misfortune and anticipated down fall.

Our knowledge was gone. We hung onto the things we had, and when those rich elves came like singing sires into our miserable lives, it only gave us more reason to destroy. It compelled our madness. The druids would say that ordinary men compelled to rage were like toddlers put in time out. That our pathologies were meant to be explored and give us more fuel to burn shit. And burn shit we did. Not only because we were hate filled and misguided, but because we had too.

“They”. Put us into stasis tank. And evolved us, devolved us, and kept some of us the same.(Some more than others) After all those years, we spent hurling into destinations unknown we awoke like raging misfits waiting for supper.

We were godless once (Some more than others). Although we were grateful. For what we had. We played and laughed and worked(Some more than others) and knew what we were entitled to. We explored, rocked and rolled, cried, fought and also loved. But when fate drives her cruel ship into unexplored lands we became scared and forgot all that was sacred. It might have been the other way around but who am I to say. We clung onto what we had so tightly we forgot were we were going. Was it a good place? Because we trusted our fear and our guts I think we know we were going into nowhere fast and cried because of it.

When we first woke up on that dreadful ass day we all felt the purge and knew we made it. We made it to the highest realm of whatever it was and we did not like it. AND so we fought it.

We were famished and entitled in the same way we were filled to the eyeballs in this new urgency. And declared ourselves compatriots in the dead end quest to burn shit. So burn shit we did.

They say its dangerous to go alone, so I brought, my rifle. Into the dam desert to comb it if I had too. What I really needed was to give this dust some character then sweep the floor until it was fresh again. I was losing my mind and I felt that this was the best way to express it. I climbed into the spire and started shooting off rounds into the cold red sky until my preservation felt promising.

The calamity still fresh in my mind I set off on a new journey. They were ancient. Their people swallowed our world and we were there captors, them are hostages. Day 1.

Everything was off its axis in this new, cold and desolate unfamiliar landscape.

They tried to barter with our lives and turn us into slaves but our fighting spirit made our perseverance inevitable. Sure, we were in the ring as gladiators but our species had gone through it before. We triumphed in the face of a nameless credence, we did like we did, and burned shit into the void. In that dark placid land were soundless epiphanies graced the unholy, unheavenly creatures, we left a large bright burning fire for them to feel. A sacrifice we had to bear for the good of us all. “we got something from them”. They’re alliance was to scarcity, void, the dearth side of the universe. We fought them and they felt it. They had been robbed.

Blind and beaten they retreated into their forge. then we knew we had a problem. This was a new one, arena , a dark , shit tower of pain was waiting for us, to climb. And that desolate embattled place was a distant arcane, a melody of fears and no survivor could stay any longer. So we pressed on. Unwilling, too demoralized and defeated to shed light on, and insane. Absolutely and radiantly barking insane.

We talked so loudly our pathologies shed light on the randomness or deliberate and or immediate gratifications our new enemies would beget our old lost souls. Our reflections of the dammed became an obvious part of alien, cowboy, zombies killing ways.

But these weren't just any alien zombie killing cowboys. They were the smart kind. They had smart faces and we were the deformed ones. The broken ones the lost ones the sad ones.”

“They" say that metaphisycal aesthetic has an ascetic property. They say that they can tell. “They” Say that its not us.

I remember the good things I liked about earth. Like the people who before my time were nomads of the sea. And took off, and set sail on their longboats to go discover far off islands to call their new home. They say those people used the stars to navigate. They had their own map as natural as ever written in the very universe to guide them.

People have a strange trust in their devils, we trusted ours

Feet on the ground, eyes on distant stars,