Setsune-Hoshiko

 There was once a forest—magnificent and beautiful—filled with towering trees and elegant blossoms. All who rode through it spoke of the wild beauty it held and how even the ugliest animals seemed as kings. Now, this was just one forest in a vast and wonderful kingdom, where witches and wizards lived and laughed, and princes and swans found true love. One day, a woman appeared in this forest, a woman of metal. She did not appear to be as such, for so exquisite was her making, she exceeded the beauty and complexity of the king's automatons. She was amazed, for not a moment ago she had taken the hand of Lady Ink, the embodiment of

Today was a day like any other. All days were the same, and would be until her battery ran down and she lost her delicate balance. She had been captured. All she had wanted, all she had ever wanted, was to be free, to go out into the world and see the good in it, to fix the bad, to just be. But she could not. She had to do her job. Do what she was made to do. Think what she was made to think. LIA, also known as #1aPrtpRbMntAsc, waited for the next patient to appear on the screen. Today was a day like every other. And all days would be like this, until she died. The patient appeared. This one was a woman, fat and red, taking breath to beg

Name: LIA or LimitedInteractiveAndroid #1aPrtpRbMntAsc (1aPrototypeRobotMountainAssociation) Age: 3 years Physical Description: Too pale, too symmetrical, too expressionless to seem human. Her skin is a pale, thin membrane covers the white metal alloy of her technology, giving a semblance of humanity. Her eyes have optional filters for extreme conditions and radiation. Mostly, her eyes are black from the pupil to the edge of the contracting iris. Her hair is straight, black, and to her shoulders.  Parts of it act as solar batteries, while other parts can also act as heat sinks to take away waste heat created when LIA exerts herse

It's so incredible, I can hardly breathe. Floating above (or is it below) an infinity of stars. With no gravity, it feels almost like swimming, my arms resting on nothing, my self unattached and free. Yet when my cord does pull me back towards the ship, it doesn't feel like a chain, it feels like a child's tether, holding me gently, just close enough to humanity to keep me from losing myself in the stars. That would be so easy here, surrounded by soft, gentle candles and abstract clouds that shift in miniscule increments, revealing and obscuring newborn stars. Even the supposedly blank and cold black of space looks more like velvet than void.

what you choose is what you see and what you see you must believe What is knowledge but hardened crystalline Belief? We are what we choose to be, and what we see is what we are, all the identities and certainties reforming from second to second at the sight of a tree that reminds you of the nest in the backyard with the birds that sang lullabies in Our minds So naive Make stone From sand Give me, please, a place to stand Change the world through different eyes The truth is but another lie What you see is true but just for you On the edge is life do you want to step over? do you want to know what's on the other side? what y

The sensation that you are completely And utterly Alone in the world This is what we live with in every day in our lives We are alone in our own minds In the dark And so, so alone So many echoing screams from each others minds That no one ever hears In the dark And so alone We are alone in the world Surrounded by closed windows Does no one realize That we are surrounded and alone

People are strange things. If they don't move about, change it up, stretch, see the world, then they fall. Stagnation, collapse, greed, murder. If things are eternally the same, they don't have anything to aspire to, and then they go wrong. There are people who drift from place to place, walking where the wind places their feet. They have the songs in their bones, the soundless story from the secrets of time that all humans- all people carry in their wordless memory. Sometimes, a person finds the next part of the song, and the tribe remembers it and so the story continues, for the next thousand years. These people live their entire life by t

Fragile words like frost upon a branch Melted, all from a single sigh My breath loses its meaning Shattered and broken under the weight of my private world My Atlas has shed his burden and turned the wheel of revolution Shouting defiance to the lost and lonely gods And the pit of Tartarus shall become the mountain of gods Words floating up unspoken, unwilled Budding and swirling To form a single, perfect phrase As clear and spherical as A single bubble Floating from the water To break the surface of my mind At what point Does a jumble of chemistry Become emotion? At what point Does a sting of numbers Become poetry? At what

          Silver blossoms Cascade so slowly down from      The abandoned tree    Cotton clumps of snow Among the withered grasses      Turn to shattered ice       Sleeping branches Stand boldly, coldly against     The cool covered sky The world sleeps.