Good job, Apollo

This world became a lot of things, didn't it boy? A gross awakening of hand outs and slavery. It was all culminating to the Great War. Time kept trancing on - mindlessly, without thought or regards to kings and kingdoms. Death called, the icy grip of ruin swept the plains of modernism, and technology made us see our hearts. We were all blind, and didn't see it coming.

The innocence of forgetting those images, gruesome and haunted, could soil the purest of hearts. A fascination of sci-fi and space travel engulfed the hearts of everyone. We got sick of this place. No longer was it necessary to travel the depths of Indo-China, or scale the Alps when you could get it on a calendar, or watch the YouTube video of it. We all died to the interest of this creation, we forgot the dust from which we emerged. There was this beckoning to go to another world. The moon, Mars, Andromeda. Wherever. We wanted to escape now, for it wasn't enough.

So we all without knowing it acknowledged that we don't belong here, but never asked why we thought that way. I was never salty enough to be remembered tastefully. Just always "that guy".

I memoriam of my life and time back there, then on Earth, I realize I never really did the things I wanted to do. I mostly just did all the things I was supposed to do.

Never feeling the symphony of love and affection was my greatest mistake. Apollo took me somewhere else. Somewhere lonely. Now I live for eternity on pharmaceuticals and artificial air. A barren moon, a cold heart. The crescendo never came to be. Dust. Decay.

Infamy and reverence, we were made to live forever, but not like this. It's not supposed to be like this.