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brokenmemories.bsky.social
Sparks of inspiration and brilliant dreams They / Them Professional idiot part-time genius full-time dummy I like long walks on the beach, watching the sunset over the water, and conquering nearby star systems.
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She awakens from a deep slumber. The weightless feeling of space around her. Hands flutter to keep her still as she floats. Stiff joints creaking back to life. She's back in her element. The sleep dusted from her eyes. Tasks ping at her from a wall screen. There is so much work to be done.

I find myself empty again. Devoid of thoughts or feelings. The thing that defines us as human wither away in my soul. I open blank eyes to grey mornings. Move stiff bones to pointless tasks. My grip loosens and my will falters. A young body powered by an old soul.

A thoughtless light beckons the warmth forward. Its silent glow begins to mindlessly eat. The blaze flashes quietly to an unfathomable roar. Its crawl, a run. Its hunger, a famine. Across the landscape, it gallops. Its unknown origin is a second thought to its destination. The world is burning.

One single slip, a misplaced step, and you will find the darkness embrace your mortal form. The sweetness of breath escapes your lips. The dim light of life flees your eyes. It became a single thought your life once was. Alone and forgotten in the deep dark down.

The suns grace crests the dawn of the day. Beautiful warmth colors the path you walk. Gentle embraces from its glow invigorated your steps. Content and one with the world, you continue onward. I love you.

The new paths before us stretch onward into an endless sea of choice. We are legion now, with many backs stronger, pulling along this great chain of life. Never fail in your efforts, for you will bear the new dawn on your shoulders. Your progeny will see the fruits of your labor.

The dusks warm colors hit the foamy white sea. The beautiful green sea smashes against the base of the Great Sea wall, spraying rainbows through the air. The steep drop of the cliff gives way to coves of wrecked ships. Strewn, their wooden carcasses bleached and stained red by the setting sun.

A haunting Raven soars. Its rainbow black feathers dust themselves off across the beautiful cerulean sky. Its mournful call brings memories of autumn pouring through your mind. Like a handful of sand slipping through your fingers. The Ravens call brings out the pain of loss once more.

Torn apart and put back together. Time after time, you find your pieces and sew them shut again. Will you find them all this time? Is it OK to finally let go of some of them? You need to weed out the bits of yourself that keep holding you back. You need to finally let go.

The woods creak in the night. You watch from your home a deer as it grazes in the moonlight. Its ears flick back a moment too late. Claws slink from the shadows, entwine the deers middle, and in a bone splitting bleat, tears the animal away. The woods creak quietly...in the night.

Ali stood there in the hazy, foggy morning light, gazing over the rooftops of the city buildings. A gentle breeze wafted in from the sea, carrying with it the invigorating scent of salt and freedom. A desire to set sail briefly captivated her before the chime of the oven jolted her back to reality.

"Wasn't that long ago when the split happened," he said shifting the packs weight around, "I was a few days out of Baltimore in a Cadillac I wired...all I saw was the dust storm kick up." A common story of anyone just far enough away from the east coast before it slid into the ocean.

Your anger is just, and your cause is right. The boots beat the drums of the coming fight. Your fists will not swing nor your bones break. Your words will cut through the lies and the fake. No matter your passion, your judgment, or will. Your voice will shatter, and their blood will spill.

Am I heard? Do ears catch my words? Or will they fade like a signal through space. Will I be seen one day a piece at a time? My heart strewn like a dissection. A broken thought here. A traumatic memory there. Many pieces of a greater being. My thoughts are becoming more and more distant with time.

I still love this comic I drew, it's old and their design has changed significantly since then, but past-me nailed the expressions it still makes me laugh #furryart #art

You...no, I.... thrash at a voiceless demon. Who's pain and anger ravage the intimate clockwork of your...no, my...mind. Helpless. No, only powerless to regain your...no, my...strength. How can you...no, I...fight your own mind to a standstill? To battle relentlessly is surly human? Is it not?

Her final moments were sharp. Her breath was short and deliberate. The wings she grew molted and withered. She shed these bonds and, like a butterfly, stood beating her new life. Feeling the softness of her new self, she strode effortlessly onward away from the pain. Unto the pleasure of new life.

As if a wisp of smoke, her breath played across the sky. Her dreams, finally, coming true. She would set out into a vast black expanse. The very heaven's letting her escape from this place. The blur of life swiftly dissappearing behind her. The endless sea spreading before her. Exhilaration. Space.

"I went for a walk today," She says, her hand cupping the contours of her face as her azure eyes tear apart the sky. Her calm expression called to something alone and forgotten. Existing through the eons in a simple attempt to be remembered. Awoken deep within her desires. Mainly her desire to fly.

The void calls her to a choice that must be made. Endless toiling or endless slumber. One choice brings pain, the other relief. They are not binary, nor are they difficult. What choices she makes affect her world. What demons she sleeps with affects her soul. So, to toil? Or to sleep?

Upon the calm soft sea The water barely quelling She dipped but toe in them And the waves began swelling Washed over shore and over mountains more Washed away all of the blood and all of the gore She hovered so elegantly As soft as the wind Yet did she smile devilishly She would do it all again

The hells tore at her wings. The heavens threw away her halo. Still, she beat against them all. Her fingers were raw and bloodied. Curled around her sword, she slew and slew. No beast could stop her. No angel could calm her. The world would burn, and she would set it ablaze.