Myke Hawkeye

Once upon a time there was a young boy who rode buses. He rode them all the way in and all the way out. To save him from himself, and the other scary passengers, he listened to a magic black box. The magic black box had thousands upon thousands of songs by a multitude of different artists and bands. One day he turned the dial to D and played the first artist in that category. From that moment he knew what he had to do. He kept listening, over and over to the same album, trying to figure out how something could be so beautiful. He never quite figured it out, but that wouldn't stop him, and he decided he would try his hardest to make his own piece of music that would rival this masterpiece. The journey began...

Over many years he tried to find the special chords that would unlock the door and let the music flow, but failure after failure took its toll on our young hero and led him down, down, deeper and down. He was almost at the point of giving up. He kept it all inside, told no-one of his plans and no-one of his dreams, he stayed up all night singing on his roof to the audience of two cats that found his unusual pressence quite heartwarming, or maybe they just found him warm. On a cold December day by the rough rainy seaside, he told a friend of his dream and she told him to just get up and do it. To not care what people thought and to improve as he went along. She put in his hand a Golden Apple with the word "καλλίστῃ" and told him one day he would understand. After 5 months he completed his first attempt, a piece called Butterfly Journals. It was received with little interest, even from his feline demographic which was still his main fan group. He fell deeper into the hole than before when he realised this attempt was far from the inspirational story he had heard on that journey years before. He was about to give up when another magical event occured...

Counting his fans on one hand, he counted three, two of which were ill capable of any elation or critism. He found the purring a compliment, but felt this was not how it was meant to be. His third fan was a young girl in a kingdom far far away, who by chance had come across him before his dream had taken over his life. She listened and listened to every vibration from his guitar and even when it was at its worst, put on a smile and kept him going. She never once let him feel that he would do anything but achieve his goal. He never forgot that...

After a resurged attempt in the shape of "Forever and a day... but what then?" he truly began to lose hope, but the girl was still there and he kept trying. He tried until his throat was dry and his fingers bled, but still the key to all of this evaded him. He found two more artists that told him that that it is possible to make his dream come true. They taught him that time was everything and that you should never rush to complete what it is that you hope to create. He felt better, but he was still in a place that he didn't want to be. Having no idea which direction to go, he decided to stop and gain an understanding of how music was made beautiful. It was during this period of discovering true beauty that he stumbled upon an amazing girl that gave him direction...

Two strangers who had passed each other by before without even noticing, suddenly came together to help each other, both with the same dream, both with similar experiences. She showed him how beautiful music could be with her moonstones and various other gems, and he learned a great deal about humility and about how different life could be. After spending some time with her he understood so much, he came home alone and held the Golden Apple in his hand and whispered the words "There arn't enough apples in the world for the beauty I've seen" and at this the apple melted away into a golden mist, which with a soft breath he blew out of the window and into the night sky. Where it would go and what it would bring back, that is a tale for another day, but for now, he picked up his guitar, ready once more to be thrown into the fray, but this time however, he was not alone...

I am also a part time writer on Helium, here are some links to my articles:
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