Apollo’s Romantic Failings

Women can be very fickle things to hold and to keep. Especially when you know that you will live far longer than them. It always makes mortals difficult to stay with. I’ve tried goddesses, but they’re always there, complaining about something or other I’ve done. Sometimes I really respect my sister, forever a virgin…it really is quite rational, but I’ve grown to love the pleasures of flesh too much, the music of two bodies locked together by their own desire. I might serenade them late into the night or early in the morning with my own pounding rhythms, but they could never match me. The key signature was always thrown to the wayside as it became a relentless torrent of primal feelings without any guide. After so many years, I’ve never had anyone to match me, never had any equivalency. Some shone brighter than even I, while some were shallow and dark without a chance of redemption.

Sometimes, I have felt more alone than any other because of this foolish quest. I would be the true patron of those who wrote all the love songs in the world, of those who wrote poems to their own beloved partners. And yet I cannot seem to find one for whom I could feel the same. I know more truly than any, besides perhaps Aphrodite, what love is for. I have felt the emotion from so many of my children who spread songs to the world. Of course, I’ve considered attempting to learn the music of a goddess such as herself but…with Hephaestus and Ares constantly at odds, I fear for my own immortal soul should I attempt anything.

I’ve spent years chasing love. Been in the arms of multiple gorgeous people. Some not necessarily even women, though I’ve no desire to repeat such incidents, even Freddie Mercury was only a passing fancy. He was truly of my seed, such a wondrous man and artist. The women I’ve been with are astounding creatures. The last of the women I was with was Dolores O’Riordan. I met her in her youth. I truly felt for her, but whether it was love I cannot say. My past is intertwined with the greatest musicians of the world, expect only a small few. I have been with men and women of greatness. I’ve seen them spiral from what they were. Deep in everyone, I see the music that makes their soul. I watch the tone deepen and grow slowly more warped and wicked; I hear the cracks in the notes, and it breaks my heart. How can you love when you see the horrors laid before you?

Now goddesses…are a different matter altogether. Their songs can be sweet as honey, almost sickly sweet, or rotten and tormented beyond comprehension. I’ve been with a small few, but I’m certain of my need to be extremely cautious around them. I’ve found the nymphs are a wondrous time, however. They are flighty and testy, such wonderful personalities, and always seem to hide their lustfulness. I strive to bring them before me many a time, hunting after them. It’s a strong pull for myself, watching the beautiful, and still knowing their imperfections, that they can match me in little. As I write this, I begin to see why it might be good for me now in this mortal plane. Opening a theatre, performing for the masses, perhaps for once I can take my mind from everything. I can relax quietly and run my business, focus the whole of who I am on creating something entirely new and beautiful in its own right

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Staff Writer
Apollo is written by a crazy young man, Daniel Sage, with a wild mind. "I've grown up reading books of intrigue, worlds were magic flows through the veins of every creature, where being is magic in and of itself. This is a great outlet for me as a writer that helps me to bring to life a character of my own, and I hope to bring a unique vitality to the role to help it shine."

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