trigger warnings // . religious guilt / religious trauma, religion in general, invalidation of feelings, talking about what happens after death (heaven/hell), venting, violence
this is directed towards my parents.
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music, music, music.
it means the world to me
its the air that i breathe,
it hurts me and heals me and it guilt trips me and comforts me in the best and worst ways.
its part of my religion,
and oh, but my religion is against it!
yeah, yeah.
listening to music, depending on it like this might bring you guilt, but oh
but oh, you don't know this feeling yet
it's the feeling of guilt that you have no choice but to experience, and its for holding onto the only art that you find comfort in,
its the guilt your parents throw on top of you, its the guilt your love throws upon you,
telling you that if you keep it up, you're going to burn,
you're going to burn,
burn, burn, burn.
is my happiness worth the fire of the future?
is my happiness worth the scorching heat of hell?
or could i stay hurting, could i stay cold, torn apart and distant and blank and pale, lacking the love that would've made its home in my heart, could i stay as this loveless vessel without the only source of light i might have left?
but my religion, but my religion
the most important thing to me,
the part of me that i'm scared to lose,
the part that is scared to lose me,
my spirit is weak.
my belief in a higher power is at its weakest when i'm without my art,
but,
my belief in a higher power is at its weakest when i'm with my art,
too,
with parents shouting left and right, telling you that your only source of material comfort is leading you astray, leading you to your downfall in the long run
it hurts more than any, any, any of you reading this could possibly imagine
you don't understand!
and i'm plunging this, i'm drilling this, i'm stabbing this, i'm injecting this, and i'm knocking this into your head so you get it;
this religious hurt that makes up who i am,
is not even close to what you could imagine it to be
when your most prominent trait, your most prized thought, the most evident part of you and your deepest desire,
is being taken, snatched, grabbed out of your reach,
it's a sin.
it makes you dirty,
makes you hellworthy,
makes you equivalent to the devil.
i can't pursue what my heart yearns for,
you don't know how that feels yet?
i don't know.
no, no i can't renounce my faith
i won't,
i don't ever want to, either
i'll go by as this mess,
as this sinful vessel
this monster,
this disappointing excuse of a believer,
i don't know how to become better,
listening?
i don't know how to become better!
i've lost everything, everything, everything i once had in me!
i'm lost, i'm gone,
i'm gone!
done for!
i'm losing!
i'm nothing more than just an empty, white, useless,
and please, please if that affects you in any way,
please, please don't make me feel guilty about it
and if whatever issues or flaws i might have that you share with me,
but you're not willing to see it that way,
then please, please stop making me feel worse than this,
because this urge to add the death of myself onto my list of countless sins,
is more than enough to take on right now,
aside from the changes you want in me
that you wont change in yourself.
-+;/=:'*#"?¿!
woah
YOU ARE READING
- - - - lost stories from quartzia - - - -
Fantasyhi this was written in the worst and most recessive period of my life but im keeping these chapters here because i want to humble myself every now and then quartzia is an osdd1b system's headspace name. i only made this discovery later on in th...
