Dmaorg.info Transcriptions

Uploaded 4/20/2018: cla_ncy-988-06MOON_18_-1.jpg
The perplexities of the Dema horizon didn't 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 tomorrow's 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 Dema's 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[y] home has never felt accurate. Dema, t[o] me, has simply been the place that I've existed, or, the 'slot' they've put me in. I've heard stories abo[u]t the ide[a] of "home," and its depiction has always seemed warm f[r]om the storyt[e]ller's de[s]cription. [T]here was a romant[i]c ownership of the p[l]ace they inhabited that I admired, but cou[l]d never relate to. Thi[s] place, my p[l]ace, however, s[e]ems devoid of the romance and wond[e]r that the old stories tell. But somewhere between the iron order and fallible [p]recis[i]on of Dema, a hum of wo[n]der exists. It's this quiet wonder that my mind tends to [g]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 what's 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 we've 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
They're asleep. The night took forever to arrive, and now we're almost ready. We've studied the watchers, and know that there's no chance that we can step through unnoticed. So, instead of trying to hide ourselves, we'll make sure that all of us are noticed. It's been one year since the last convocation, and tomorrow's Annual Assemblage of Glorified will be the biggest spectacle this concrete coffin of a city has seen all year. If we time it right, we'll divert the attention of the watchers and finally take the step through. We've had no contact, but we're hoping the other side will be able to find a way in. We're 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. They've never seen anything quite like this, and by morning, everything will be different. I'm terrified and excited, all at the same time. They don't control us.
- Clancy

Uploaded 7/8/2018: _note.gif
I've 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. It's been three nights now, and my breathing has changed - it's slower, and more full.
It's like the air out here is actually worth taking in.
I can see it back in the distance, and I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't 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 won't be able to look at it the same way.
They are asleep. They're so sure that they know the truth, and carry on throughout their day with the same meaningless tasks.
They've forgotten to look up, and to look outward, to understand that this isn't 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 it's easy to grow weary. But it's real, and it's true, and I'd much rather endure reality than to mindlessly be obedient to a life that
someone else created for me. I've obsessed about this world for so long, that it feels more like home than anything I've experienced.
Somehow, in this vast openness, I feel more protected than ever.
The landscape feels endless, and I've found myself walking for hours without any true evidence of getting further down.
But I've seen plants and colors out here that I'm not sure I've witnessed before. There's a beauty in the strangest places,- and the curiosity of what's next continues to
motivate me.
I wonder who else is out here. If what i assumed inside is true, there's got to be more like me. Sometimes I'll feel a presence, only to look up and see nothing.
It's just another thing that I'm 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. I'm sometimes scared, but always discovering something new, and I will not stop. Cover me!
- Clancy

Uploaded 7/18/2018: unalone.gif
I can't believe what I just saw. I'm 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. I've 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 wasn't 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 I've 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?
I'll travel a little farther, and maybe I'll 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. I've witnessed the presence of others for the first time today, and I feel more alone than ever. Cover me.
- Clancy