“In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood, like a hundred golden urns pouring out the sun.” -Madeline Miller, “The Song Of Achilles.”


Message to Readers

It’s 1:09am and I was feeling like I haven’t been writing my best lately so I opened up a new note and threw some words down.

Just A Few Thoughts About Glory & Gold I’ve Gone And Strung Together

April 20, 2019


I am going to go to sleep and dream about legends and their bright white colours with the gold streaking through Icarus and the deepest of purple running down Hyacinthus, like water because I bet you, he bruised that colour when the discus hit him, thrown from that golden hand, and there is so much gold, so much fucking gold.

Let your head catch fire with the swirls of a warrior in smoke. Catch them and feel their roughed up skin, their scarred and scratched canvas and then move your hands to Achilles. Feel his skin, feel how it’s cold from the river but so smooth. So smooth, because his mother nearly drowned him just so his breath could be snuffed out in the sea of his own rage later. 

Stop grabbing at that marble, it’s been around for so much longer than you, and you may be a god, but you are young yet. Your heart has barely begun to bleed that damned gold. The only way to know you’ve been blessed is if your cuts are red and your mouth doesn’t taste like awakening. 

And it does taste like awakening, doesn’t  it? Your tongue like dawn and your throat a home for beginnings. Every single one of your teeth is a new continent, and you spit out the words that spawn the heroes. Sometimes they die all prettily for the greatest of gods.

You’ve got your glory wrapped in the maze of your arteries. You rip it out and you die. If you are without glory you will fall apart but all your glory has an expiration date. It’s the 12th of a lot of months. You best make more, maybe you could capture a rainbow? Top your last feat and garner yourself some hate too while you’re at it. The best? Oh, the best are always hated.

Rotten glory is a lot like the history books  that detail you  being thrown into a blaze of gold.


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  • April 20, 2019 - 7:10pm (Now Viewing)

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