text: Uploaded 4/20/2018: cla_ncy-988-06MOON_18_-1.jpg
  The perplexities of the Dema horizon didnt occur to me until my ninth year. It was then that I began to contemplate the existential, and decide what type of impression I wanted my life to make. Naturally, to fuel my hope, I looked out upon the distance of the land that had cultivated me, only this time with new awareness of the obstruction that my youthful ignorance had allowed me to overlook. Was it there the whole time? How had I not seen something so obvious? I am reminded of the moment daily, as the realization directly collides with a unique hope for my own future. As a child, I looked upon Dema with wonder, today, I am wrought with frustration, as I spend each day squinting for a glimpse of the top of the looming wall that has kept us here. It was upon my ninth year that I learned that Dema wasn’t my home. This village, after all of this time, was my trap.
  Before I became realized, I had deep affection for Dema. There was a wonderful structure to the city that put my cares to rest. Streets and locations were dependable, and the responsibilities of the day seemed to be accomplished with minimal effort. Once a task was taught and understood, we delighted in our ability to complete our obligations timely, and felt secure in knowing tomorrows duties would be accomplished with the same efficiency. We all worked to represent our bishop with honor, and knew that each inhabitant of our region had a like-minded dedication to consistency.
  Keons embodied the spirit of this dedication. Of Demas nine bishops, Keons was reserved as unwavering and forthright, possessing the ability to achieve focus that was rare for most in our region. We all admired his, and felt honored to be inhabitants of his region. While we had heard legend of the ruthlessness of other bishops, Keons possessed a stoic demeanor unlike anyone I had ever met, and we were all proud to serve.
  - Clancy
  Uploaded 5/9/2018: 017_07MOON_07.jpg
  To refer to Dema as m home has never felt accurate. Dema, t me, has simply been the place that I’ve existed, or, the slot theyve put me in. Ive heard stories abot the ide of home, and its depiction has always seemed warm fom the storytllers decription. here was a romantc ownership of the pace they inhabited that I admired, but coud never relate to. Thi place, my pace, however, sems devoid of the romance and wondr that the old stories tell. But somewhere between the iron order and fallible recison of Dema, a hum of woder exists. Its this quiet wonder that my mind tends to ets lost in. This hope of discovery alone has birthed a new version of myself; A better version, I hope, that will find a way to experience whats beyond these colossal walls.
  - Clancy
  Uploaded 7/1/2018: _e_sr__eve_r_.jpg
  A lifeless light surrounds us each night. Never could I imagine that
  something so luminous could feel so dark. I’ts this glow that reminds us of the dreamless existence we’ve been sentenced to. But what I call a sentence, others accept as normalcy. How did they so efficiently eradicate the dreams within us? When the bishops instituted Vialism as mandate, they effectively reversed the hope that many arrived with. Am I the only one who realizes that weve been lied to? Am I the only one not afraid of the notion that the nine have hijacked our trust, and extinguished the hope that once motivated our existence? We used to close our eyes and picture a better life, now this city is full of dry eyes caught in a trance of obedience, devoid of any trace of an identity. The only significant light I’ve seen has been in the eyes of of those smeared - such a curious sight, to see bright eyes strangled by the darkness of bishop hands. As their penance fades, so dims their memory of something more. My hope of something more is all I have in this rigid tomb, and I will not let it die.
  - Clancy
  Uploaded 7/5/2018: _he_a_vy_.jpg
  Theyre asleep. The night took forever to arrive, and now were almost ready. Weve studied the watchers, and know that there’s no chance that we can step through unnoticed. So, instead of trying to hide ourselves, well make sure that all of us are noticed. Its been one year since the last convocation, and tomorrows Annual Assemblage of Glorified will be the biggest spectacle this concrete coffin of a city has seen all year. If we time it right, well divert the attention of the watchers and finally take the step through. Weve had no contact, but were hoping the other side will be able to find a way in. Were not sure of the breach location, but we are willing to risk being smeared in order to find it. We know that we must go lower, and wait for the torches. Theyve never seen anything quite like this, and by morning, everything will be different. Im terrified and excited, all at the same time. They dont control us.
  - Clancy
  Uploaded 7/8/2018: _note.gif
  Ive made it out.
  I feel weightless. I know that place had always held me down, but for the first time,
  I can feel the unity that I had hoped for. Its been three nights now, and my breathing has changed - its slower, and more full.
  Its like the air out here is actually worth taking in.
  I can see it back in the distance, and Id be lying if I said that it wasnt constantly on my mind.
  I wish I could turn that fear off, but maybe the further I go, the less that fear will affect me. I feel betrayed by what I assumed was home.
  If I ever end up back there, I wont be able to look at it the same way.
  They are asleep. Theyre so sure that they know the truth, and carry on throughout their day with the same meaningless tasks.
  Theyve forgotten to look up, and to look outward, to understand that this isnt about in there.
  This is about out here.
  This new world surrounds me. I used to think the walls back home were massive- these green cliffs engulf me, and place me right in the middle-
  Trench is quite precarious at times, and its easy to grow weary. But its real, and its true, and Id much rather endure reality than to mindlessly be obedient to a life that
  someone else created for me. Ive obsessed about this world for so long, that it feels more like home than anything Ive experienced.
  Somehow, in this vast openness, I feel more protected than ever.
  The landscape feels endless, and Ive found myself walking for hours without any true evidence of getting further down.
  But Ive seen plants and colors out here that Im not sure Ive witnessed before. Theres a beauty in the strangest places,- and the curiosity of whats next continues to
  motivate me.
  I wonder who else is out here. If what i assumed inside is true, theres got to be more like me. Sometimes Ill feel a presence, only to look up and see nothing.
  Its just another thing that Im afraid of that also excites me. It all just confirms all of the things that I hoped to be true for all of this time.
  I am out here and I am very alive. Im sometimes scared, but always discovering something new, and I will not stop. Cover me!
  - Clancy
  Uploaded 7/18/2018: unalone.gif
  I cant believe what I just saw. Im still trying to understand. This whole time I thought I was all alone - a single soul in this vast unknown world. But a few days into this trek, I looked down to see a figure headed the same way I was. Ive tucked myself in these caves and crevices, trying my best to keep hidden, but he was out in the open, making his exhausting journey right down the middle of Trench. I was curious enough to follow alongside the path with him. He seemed unaffected by the fear of the unknown - the fear that tends to cripple me. To him, the terrain seemed familiar, as if he had been out here before.
  While lost in my curiosity, they appeared. I had heard about them back in Dema, but to my knowledge, the stories were merely myth. Ten, twenty, and then what seemed to be a hundred Banditos appeared upon the cliffs, all looking down at him. He only stopped for a moment to look back up at them, and then continued on his way. His energy changed, and I wasnt sure if he was frightened or encouraged by their ominous presence.
  They warned him of what was about to come. It was a blur. First seeing the figure, then the Banditos, only to now have my eyes opened to the oncoming Bishop upon a white horse drawing closer in the distance.
  The figure halted, and waited. When the Bishop stopped, I was sure he looked up, directly at me, so I hid deeper back in a cave. The presence of the robed rider seemed to paralyze the man. He stood still as he was approached, powerless as the outstretched hands smeared his neck. I had never seen a Bishop possess a power like this. Keons had always seemed gentle and warm - this bishop, at least out here, seemed like something else.
  So I ran, and Ive been running for as long as my legs and lungs can handle. Maybe this note will be my proof that what I witnessed was not a dream. A million questions race through my brain. Am I not the only one traveling through Trench?
  Ill travel a little farther, and maybe Ill get a moment of rest tonight. I may have made a mistake, leaving. This spot, between two places, is beginning to feel like an endless and hopeless abyss. At least Dema is a place that I know, and at times like this, I miss a lot about what I know. This will all be much tougher than I imagined. Nothing out here is familiar. Ive witnessed the presence of others for the first time today, and I feel more alone than ever. Cover me.
  - Clancy
  Uploaded 1/22/2019: 17-35.4527.jpg
  I cant face this page for long enough to write what Im truly feeling. I am only wrought with more questions: Questions about what I assumed to be true, questions about what my own path is, and the question that has plagued my every night that I lie here, back in the city: Did I give up?
  The force I saw between him and his bishop seemed tense to me, and frightening. But the memory of that exchange has had time to fester and replay in my mind long enough that Im questioning if I even remembered it correctly. I assumed the bishop was forcefully retrieving his subject, but now I wonder if the bishop was actually trying to save him, but he refused.
  I stayed out there for five days after I watched it happened. I havent seen him since. Maybe he got away, and was still out in Trench with me. Maybe the bishop chased him down, and brought him home.
  Home?
  Did I just call this place ´home?`
  After all of the endless beauty that I saw out there, I am now convincing myself that Im actually better off within these confines?
  I admit, It was more difficult than I expected. Nothing could have prepared me for how much the ´unknown´ can consume me. Vast landscapes and endless possibilities, yet coupled with endless danger. I became anxious. I became tired. I became hungry. Every step I took seemed harder than the last, jumping from jagged rucky step to step, or pulling myself through thick forest – it all became debilitating, and I was sure that I couldnt go on.
  Keons approached as the sun rose one morning. I wasnt scared. I was relieved. After all that he had taught me, his presence was the most comforting moment that I had in days, and I couldnt help but be happy to see him. In true Keons fashion, he wrapped his arms around me, then put his hands under my face, looked me in the eyes, and then said “Clancy, my child, lets go home.”
  Ive been here for a few weeks now, and while the routines of this world are comforting, and certainly easier than life out there, my mind keeps bouncing between the two places.
  Which one is home? Are the bishops protecting me, and the torches upon the hilltop dangerous? Or is it the other way around? My dreams pull me from world to world, and I feel lost in between all of it.
  There is still so much I do not understand.
  -Clancy