Quartz

I literally have no idea what I'm doing ✍️ future Author

[quartz211]

I want to disappear

Not in the sense that I want to die. I don’t . I want to disappear in a way that makes me free. I want to become air so that I may pass by people without a glance from them. A thought of me won’t enter their minds, only a ghost through their lungs or a tickle on their skin. There will be nothing for them to look at. On days where Im angry they can never say the wind is unreasonable. On days when Im calm they will be grateful for my cool presence, not burdened only in my absence. I can be light, no amount of doubt or guilt can weigh the wind down. There won’t be a body to bury or memories of what I was to pull be back. My name will be safe from their tongue. My presence will be free from their image

[quartz211]

Why are we attracted to tragedy?

Maybe we’re cynical by nature but we tend to be fascinated by what we know is dark. We know how we will react, we know very well the nauseating affect that awaits us if we choose to continue reading, so there’s really no point in finishing the story yet we are always compelled to gaze a little longer. As if the scene will shift if we draw our eyes away. It’s a sick waiting but not for something better, because a prettier picture would ruin the image. Something beautiful would be satisfying and therefore disappointing. No It’s a twisted hope that the indulgence will  somehow make us understand the the distorted display. That suffering makes us masters of pain. Humans think that if they can hurt themselves more that they can become something like a god that can fully understand something that only exists for itself.

[quartz211]

You’ll keep swimming , you have no choice 

From the surface before you could comprehend it’s depth, before you had any idea of what it meant to hold your breath you’ve already decided your fate.when flying now feels like a weight the light can’t follow you

you’ll keep swimming.   Youll leave your surface kin  when the blue that you’ve known changes to a warning abyss, your own body has become an enemy fighting for the air you miss. Against it own mind does it want to be free yet you’ll tame it to keep swimming deeper. The darkness is now eternal. 

The fight has now become internal There’s no difference between awake and asleep. and Your head foergo a weep still you keep swimming. finally the pushing stops Your lungs no longer needing air, the black becomes a friend and youre sinking now without care. This is this the state you’ve been waiting for? But this isn’t what you foresaw The unknown finally in reach  but for this did you beseech?

[quartz211]

I welcome any hand brave enough to caress my face. Slowly and softly afraid to break what’s already damaged. They can be rough as long as it’s touch is gentle. Their skin understands danger as well as I. Both decorated with wounds that still hurt to touch yet that is what they both crave and fear. A breeze of words would be a nice change to the storm that beats the world senselessly. I gave up blocking the sounds with hands too small until another pair came and did it for me. Lets hide, dig a home in this burrow and here the warmth we desperately find can be created. With those hands cold from the winter and stained from the digging use them for something sweeter. I wont mind the freezing touch, they’ll warm up eventually. The shaking will stop and one day, on this day loving will feel normal again.

[quartz211]

The company of loneliness is a dangerous thing. not because she’s typically awful to be around, though Im sure you’ve heard stories of those unfortunate enough to spend their entire lives in her presence. But because her company is addictive in the way that it’s gentle. Her voice carries in crouds even as a whisper. She stays by your side when you’re indefensible. When you’re in a state that easiest to mold. Youll latch onto anything to not end up alone even to lady loneliness herself. That’s how she wins this cunning game. Because in the end, somehow if there is an end to her presence, youll feel the empty space she filled and the fellowship of others will feel lifeless. Only she was safe. you can go back to her anytime. Most people choose to in the end

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my soul is happy but my body is sad swear if you let me live I will I will use this useless vessle to transport my soul to its final resting place so that it can burn without its hollow cavern constricting its light The strength of its shell while protects what’s inside unnaturally shadows what it envelops It drags itself It wants to be buried in its original home but it’s driver has an opposite nature By design was it meant to experience How did a relationship created to nurture one another turn into a battle of character where neither opponent can die

[quartz211]

stuck in progress

Art draws the same eyes that judge  And turn them against their own nature  Why do we fight what we were born to do? So in its place we can suffer 

Doing nothing is the goal  We’re running from death yet haven’t realised we’ve already living it At least that would be a little more romantic 

We’re saving time by spending it on nothing Please just give me eternity already  Then what Im thinking will make sense  And critics can enjoy their solitude

[quartz211]

The only thing that can kill a god is manmade We crush what we adore for the sake of progress and blame our own creation Or should I say creator? The gifts were never meant to be eternal  Maybe that’s why we destroy  We love so much that we cling  And so we hold on too tightly to what we were never owed that it’s only fate is to be crushed. A desperate attempt to hold on to the life we have and extend it so that we can enjoy a moment more. We always fall in love with moments. So is our fault a desire to preserve or a lack of care for what is?

[quartz211]

Love is violent  It’s greatest stories are about heroes fighting for it teaching us that love is loud, it screams and yells because that’s the only way it can be heard. Sometimes it’s large gestures to prove to onlookers that what you have is real (because everyone knows that if others can’t see it then it doesn’t exist) and sometimes it’s yelling at each other at home. Because pain is it’s price, you owe it your hurting. It thrashes and scratches and you allow it out of guilt. Clinging on to this attachment and calling it devotion. If you can’t then you’re simply not loyal. Not worthy

Id like to think Im wrong. That one day it won’t be chains. One day love won’t be begging, it will listen when you whisper and won’t dream of shouting back. Love will be quiet and tell you things only you get to hear. Others can guess what it says in your ear but only you will get the privilege of knowing. So soft will it tell you how worthy you are. It won’t be a great battle poets will make stories of. It won’t be fighting monsters but rather the opposite. It will be kindess. It will be finding the strength to resist voilence. Id rather have a love that stays hidden in my arms than one that screams out of my reach. If love truly can’t be still, if love can only exist when you suffer. Then I’ll spare us both it’s cruel game.

[quartz211]

pilgrim to heaven

I reach out to something that doesn’t exist Obscure or false hope beating through mist Do I stay where it’s cold to give my muscles rest?

But to do so would stray heavy on my chest My mind will never quiet with thoughts of what if But is it still loyalty if it’s based on a myth?

It’s easier when your eyes are closed  I get both the view without being exposed  But then the cold bites my skin And I remember, to myself would only dreaming be a sin

[quartz211]

Some people are afraid of heights, it’s understandable. Some would say choosing to go higher when the drop could kill you goes against all common sense. Look at Icarus. Yes be flew, he could do what others have only done in dreams yet it still wasn’t enough. I don’t think even touching the stars would have been enough for him. That’s why he had to fall, there has to be an end somewhere. That’s why smarter people choose to stay on the ground. Even if we can’t reach the ends of the universe be grateful we still have the land. That’s called survival. So what do you call the opposite? When you want to reach heights that are so impossible your only option is to eventually burn. Chasing the temporary because everything that’s safe and constant feels lifeless. The most beautiful things are fleeting. Giants stars that disappear in colour and heat, lights painting the sky in loud flashes. I know, what could have gone wrong in our heads to make us desperately chase that brief spark whose only motive is to cremate you. Is that living or recklessness? But why not live a life that explodes instead of asking for permission to shine?  I know something loud is whispering inside you to create something transformative, The opposite would be to sit still and just wait to finally fade. Then you’ll be satisfied. Not happy but satisfied is good. At least you’ll be safe right? Not like those fools who can tell you what flying feels like, that’s a secret you only get to know when you’ve paid the price of living. You know that the alternative is just another way of dying slowly. 

[quartz211]

Why do we trap ourselves? No really we came from the sky, we could see all of the universe and all of time  We could fly, not compressed to a singlular form. Now we’re trapped in this cage of flesh. Every movement held back by chains of its own limitations. Gravity shackles us to rock, pulling us down while we are forced to look up at our freedom. Just out of reach is our home with no rules. This confinement turned into a custom because then we held fellow prisoners back with mock. Being locked in one place isn’t enough but we must crush our being into an impossible mold to follow a fake flock.  All you can do is watch from the bars of your bony cells hoping that when you’re body dwells in a box, will be the day your being returnes to the universe. Where it will flow in endless liberty. 

[quartz211]

You poor wild dog You still don’t know the meaning of home It means treading carefully, pretending you don’t exist. not a single sound should come out of you. Bite back your anger till your tongue bleeds then swallow the blood. Hide it in your throat and don’t ever cough it out.  No whimpering in pain or barking in fear. No one wants to hear your harsh sounds. 

Home means to brush your fur, keep it clean and soft. Even if it feels unnatural. No one will love you covered in dirt. Keeping your fur silky has another purpose, so that others can pet you whenever they please. Even if their touch stings. Even if it burns the surface of your skin and their rough hands move in possessiveness not love. You must always allow it.

Home means to always be happy. Never growling or snaring. Agree with everyone and never bare your teeth. Only monsters do that. Just cut your claws, hide your fangs and sit. 

Finally home is a place you can never leave. How could you? You could never survive on your own. You’re just an ignorant animal that doesn’t understand the real world. Trust me you’re only accepted here. 

This is all you need to do to have a home. Anything that doesn’t follow suit should live outside in the wild amongst other beasts. Only good dogs deserve food Only good dogs deserves to live with us 

Anything that fights back is hunted and put down.You think all this is harsh? No this isn’t hurting it’s training. Animals that run freely without consequences should be tamed. Don’t worry wild dog, one day you’ll understand.

[quartz211]

The moon loves you you are made from the stars it surrounds itself with, it watches you and patiently waits for the day you will be reunited. For the day you will be dancing gracefully forever with your brothers and sisters in the infinite sky. Watching you shine unapologetically until creation dies. Until then don’t hide, it’s difficult for the moon to see you while you are on earth, the soul it loves so much hidden in flesh. So keep shining, even if it hurts others eyes. Even if others mock your existence. Because even if you have no human connection you’ll always have the moon. As it will always be grateful to that small speck of you glowing, your presence is a distant comfort. Just like hers is to you when she decides to come out.

[quartz211]

Tell me things I hear in songs

Tell me things I hear in songs, tell it to me like you believe love can still exist, become my favourite actress, play your part, read your lines with a soft smile. I will settle for any lie even if saying them makes you choke. Even as they close around your throat and you must cough them out. I will gladly hold any gentle falsehood because at least they were gentle. When you’re used to harshness even the good that mothered it starts to feel evil. So I will happily take the blood you spit out. Even if it’s very existence is unatural it was birthed from good intentions. I will follow you to the most painful memories and sell my flesh to satisfy any of your caprices. I will do anything you commanded as long as it was followed by “I love you” I will be your servant if you can be my fake muse. All you have to do is read from your script. Please satisfy us both.  abandon your morality for devotion and I’ll sacrifice my dignity for validation. Let us finally trade the pain of surviving a harsh life for the sting of enduring attachment. We deserve to be cruel. We’ve earned the right to be soothed even if it’s artificial. Anything to make it hurt less. Isn’t that what love is? Making the hurt less

[quartz211]

happiness is a child A prince but still like all children he has no job. He is unpredictable, exploring his kingdom without any sense of danger or time. Born from curiosity he is fascinated by everything. Big or small, Dangerous or safe. He wanders aimlessly

Sadness is a Ruler She leads the restless kingdom. She does not have the luxury to leave so she spends her existence mothering happiness. She takes notice of everything and brings light to the darkest parts of the kingdom. The parts that need the most attention. To her people she is a merciless tyrant that should be replaced with the prince. Still she quietly guids her kingdom so that happiness can rest.

Anger is a warrior Unlike sadness he is anything but gentle and still. There isn’t a single sweet tale about him. He is always blamed for cruelty and the villian in every fable used to keep children in line. Both happiness and sadness adore him because they know he is their knight. A hero that keeps them safe from injustice

Finally love is a bard they come and go unannounced. You can find them in any corner of the world because love has a job. They travel to inspire all they can while sadness waits patiently for them to come back

[quartz211]

My therapist said that every morning I should try to name 5 things I am grateful for and every night 5 things that went well during the day. I’ve noticed some themes in my listenings. One, the things I name are always small. Weird how we spend most of our lives trying to achieve great things, constantly looking for the next goal and the next indulgence that would make you happier but when you think about the moments in the day that you felt peaceful it was the simple things. Drinking coffee in the morning, Noticing how much brighter the sun is today, Your favourite song unexpectedly coming on the radio or that proud feeling when you’ve created something small. Maybe nothing impressive but very meaningful because you’ve made it with your own hands. The second thing I’ve noticed was that you were always on that list. Without fail, no matter what kind of day it was. If I saw you or not, You will always be someone that makes starting the day easier and ending the day more meaningful. Because of this I can only conclude that there are two requirements to happiness. Simplicity and love