The Writings of the Red Magpie

Hello, this is my writing blog. After encouragment from my english professor I decided to try creative writing for fun, so this is that. I'm new to writing like this, so be patient with me please. Otherwise enjoy!

[thewritingredmagpie]

The truth is, I don’t know where I’ll go.

I want to be good. I want to help those who can’t help themselves.

I keep the commandments. I’m honest and kind, even as it hurts. I cry, alone at night where no one can see, so that I can go out and smile at everyone who needs it.

I want to believe that is enough. Enough to get me to paradise. Enough to escape eternal hellfire and damnation. Enough to avoid eternal shame at having failed my creator, my God.

But if I get there, and when recounting my deeds, they tell me you were my only mistake.

My hand in yours for too long. My eyes being unable to watch the beauty of the world around me, because I’m too captivated by my own world living and breathing in front of me, with a smile that makes me forget there is anything else giving me warmth. My lips remembering the moment when I knew you were perfect in every way I was not, that you were my puzzle piece and that I was yours.

I won’t escape damnation, I won’t fight against the hellfire, I won’t exist for eternity in shame.

I’ll wait, my darling, until you—my heaven—come to join me.

No God can tell me you’re not worth it.

[thewritingredmagpie]

Do you find penance in pain?

Or do you suffer because others say you should?

[thewritingredmagpie]

I don’t just want sunshine.

I want the warmth that comes from it. I want the fuzzy feeling it gives me when I sit in it’s presence for too long.

I want it’s all-encompassing presence. I want to always be thinking about it, to both enjoy and complain about it when it’s there while asking where it went when it’s gone.

I want to think about it for years to come, to remember every moment of my life as a catalog of memories spent in it’s presence.

I want to feel the burn it leaves on my skin. I want to ache and hurt, while never regretting being there. I want to love the burn, because I know that it’ll change me for the better.

I don’t just want to see my sunshine.

I want to live a life to be proud of with my sunshine, or I’d rather live no life at all.

[thewritingredmagpie]

Why can’t we just exist?

Why do we have to take pictures, and leave footprints, and write books?

Why can’t we just live our lives as we want, without owing something to the future?

Why does living mean living for others?

[thewritingredmagpie]

When did I come to enjoy it?

The burning of my face

The squeezing of my heart

The running of my nose

My head hurts

My throat is sore

I can’t scream

I can’t speak

I can’t cry out

I can only lay here, and let the tears run down my face

Why do I do this to myself?

And why do I crave this hurt so much?

[thewritingredmagpie]

I like people.

Humans aren’t always kind. Normally people are rude and loud. They push and they shove their way to an outcome that helps them and them only.

But I like people.

I like seeing the way a person’s eyes light up when I ask them for pictures of their pets. I like hearing the ramblings of a stranger chatting about their newest game to a friend in a coffee shop. I like the excitement and satisfaction that radiates off of others what I ask for their help in their area of expertise.

People may not be good, but I like them anyways.

I wonder when that sentiment became abnormal, maybe it’s always been an unpopular opinion.

But that won’t change my mind.

My love for humanity may get me killed one day, but it’s also what has made me feel alive.

[thewritingredmagpie]

I miss my home.

The joy when I got the sit and watch a movie with my mother and sister, even if I can’t remember anything about it.

The anticipation of setting out my clothes on Saturday night, excited to show my new outfit to my friends at church.

The love from my dad when I helped him take care of our pets.

The anxiety of walking into school knowing everyone was careful around me, making sure to keep their distance.

The fear of not knowing if my best friend is ok, if this is a decision that will mold him forever or if it will be the last one he’ll ever make.

The sadness of feeling so alone in a house full of such much love, that was always outside of my room.

I don’t know when I lost my home, but I don’t think I can ever go back again.

I only hope I’m the only one who feels this way.

[thewritingredmagpie]

The Chosen One

I never asked to be special. I didn’t want to be different.

I wanted to fall in line. I did as I was told, never spoke up, never cried out.

Why me? Why did I have to be special?

What did I do to deserve this? What did he do!? He’s just a child, one who doesn’t fear what he knows.

I want to take him and run. I want to look to the clouds and curse your name.

I never asked for this.

I never asked to be holy.

I don’t want to be special.

I just want to hold my son.

[thewritingredmagpie]

I forgive life, for being so kind to me that I can only remember the cruelty

[thewritingredmagpie]

Role Models 6/3/2025

When people talk of role models they talk of celebrities, who have thrust themselves into greatness through hard work and determination People praise their family, and how they have persevered even through the darkest of times. People ponder long dead geniuses, who revolutionized our world with nothing more than their thoughts. People imagine their favorite characters, hoping they may one day be able to look upon themselves with the same honor and love as they do them. I think of those things, but no one truly matches Icarus to me. A man unafraid of the wet sea below waiting to wet and wipe away him wings before they even got the chance to fly. A man bold enough to fly where no one had the chance to, even at the expense of his life. A man whose goals were unfettered by human anger or godly greed. A man who even when afraid, found a path forward. A man who is used as a cautionary tale, warning children to do the exact opposite of everything Icarus had ever achieved. I hope to live my life as Icarus did, Unafraid of it ending.

[thewritingredmagpie]

“But where was God now, with heaven full of astronoughts, and the Lord overthrown? I miss God. I miss the company of someone utterly loyal. I still don't think of God as my betrayer. The servants of God, yes, but servants by their very nature betray. I miss God who was my friend. I don't even know if God exists, but I do know that if God is your emotional role model, very few human relationships will match up to it”

-Jeanette Winterson Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit

[thewritingredmagpie]

Loathing 12/20/2024

His hands are covered in blood. His trail is that is destruction. Death and deceit follow him everywhere he goes. He's killed, both guilty and innocent, for monetary compensation. Cloaked in mystic and fear, he travels free from anyone. Alone with nothing but his mind. He lives in fear and resignation, expecting every moment to be his last. He survives, even while every moment alone eats away at his mind and soul. I watch as he believes every hate-filled "monster" spat his way. I try to convince him otherwise, but he merely smiles sadly and ignores me. I try to tell him not to protect them, they only hate him in return. I fight for him, for his wellbeing and his life, even when he urges me against it. I know I am unworthy of him, I am selfish in every way he is selfless. I don't know why he chooses to keep me, when I am everything he fights against. I let him hold me at night, giving me comfort I have not earned. I return the favor, but it never feels like enough. I know he deserves so much more, and I am not the one worthy of giving it to him. I follow behind him, keeping him at arms length. Not out of fear of him or his actions, but out of fear that I might taint him. I wash his hands, to free him from the blood I've soaked them in.

[thewritingredmagpie]

Adult 12/14/2024

I wonder how adults see us. To them, we are spoiled. They have given us everything we could possibly asked for, and have never repaid them. They've loved us free of charge, all the while collecting interest. Do they think they are doing us a favor? By pretending to love us, only to ask for servitude in return. We're taught to trust our adults, and yet far too often they are the first ones to teach us the truth of our lives. We are not owed love. Our books are filled with stories of children, too young to understand why, being forced into positions of power they never wanted. They're criticised for everything they say and do, all the meanwhile crying out for someone to care for them. Begging for someone to treat them as the child they are. We are steeped in fear from our very first moments. Because of this, we do not cower. We stand, knowing that standing will lead us to our death. We do not fear our own demise, instead we fear our survival without change. Perhaps that is why adults wish to control us, because they envy us. I wonder how adults see us, because to us they are our worst fear.

[thewritingredmagpie]

Hate 12/13/2024

From our first moments, we begin to feel. We learn what others have named these feelings, and never learn to question these definitions. We cry, and learn that sadness is an ache. A growing hole within us, that only subsides once it is filled in with something else. Perhaps that is why sadness is such a common emotion, we are always wanting for something else after all. We laugh, and learn that joy is a thump. It sends us flying to those around us, but is terrifying all the same. We enjoy it when it's there, but never truly revel in it without looking for when it will be gone. We cower, and learn that fear is silence, Something we can easily change, yet changing it feels even more frightening then leaving it be. Silence can be comfort for some, especially when it is all they have ever known. We yell, and learn that anger is burning. It festers within us, starting at nothing more than ash and smolders before igniting. After, we're left with an empty feeling of nothingness, and the feeling of having done something wrong. We hate, and learn that of a word whose definition escapes us. To hate is to treat someone as an enemy, but to have an enemy you must have a cause and an opposition. What is our cause? Life? Then our opposition would be death, but do we truly hate death? We love, and never question it. Love is an expression on its own, not ruled by any other emotions. Love does not prohibit sadness or joy, anger or fear. It is overpowering, controlling all else. To us, hate is the opposite to love. Perhaps then hate is simply the loss of control. The loss of knowledge. Perhaps we only hate that which we cannot or do not want to understand.

[thewritingredmagpie]

Panic 12/11/2024

Why? My lungs are burning. It's like I'm running through a burning building, but I'm not moving. My hands burn from falling onto the carpet. Why? I can feel the carpet beneath me give way, from years of use. The smell of caramel and apples swarm around me, warm and comforting. Yet, all I can feel is the empty air around me. I'm alone. Why? I flinch from the sound of the air conditioner turning on. I can't focus my eyes, everything looks like vague shapes and colors. There's a large shape in front of me. Why?! It sounds like I'm underwater, vague noises that I can't place. I hear familiar noises, but can't understand where it's coming from. The fear of the unknown causes me to breathe faster. It hurts. Why?! I feel something cold on my forearm. My neck snaps up. It hurts to breathe, it hurts to live. The shape in front of me is moving, speaking. Why?!? Why do I do this? Why do I panic? Why can't I accept the help? Why can't I be normal.

[thewritingredmagpie]

1st John 4:18

I felt the hard floor underneath my knees. I wanted to get up; to fight, to block, to run, to do anything, but my body wouldn’t move. My heart was thumping out of chest. I knew this feeling. I had felt this feeling my whole life. It’s all I've ever known for certain. Fear I heard their voice cut through the silence in the room like a knife. “Say your last words quickly.” They said in what almost sounded like a chuckle. I had so many thing I wanted to go back and do, so many things I wanted to change, both for myself and others, but in the end if I only had one chance; there was only one thing I had left. I felt cold steel come under my jaw and pull my face upwards. As I looked upwards into a pair of eyes I used to know so well, there were parts I didn't recognize. Pools with walls of courage and ambition, flooded with pain and fear past the point of recovery. Nothing has ever felt as comforting as the sharp steel pressing into my neck. Perhaps I should be afraid, but death stopped holding fear against me long ago. Nothing else even had a chance of being my last words, there had only been one thing holding me back all this time and now it seemed like that blockade was almost gone. I watched as, for just a moment, their eyes cleared and I saw the person I revered for so long. I can only hope I've done enough good in this world to have the privilege of getting to meet them again in the next one. “I Love You.”

[writing-challenges-and-prompts]

Writing Prompt: Dialogue

“If I didn’t do dangerous things, I would do nothing.”

[thewritingredmagpie]

"His words haunt every waking moment I have. I wish I had the courage to tell him to stop, to say it was ok for him to do nothing. Instead I stood in silence and fear. Fear he would listen and still choose to leave me. I wish I was as courage as he pretends to be. I wish I was worthy of fighting along side him, rather than meekly waiting for him to come home. I pray to gods I've never believed in that this man would realize his life has meaning beyond what horrors he has subjected it to. I wish I told him I loved him. I wish I had told him that comforting me wasn't nothing."