Surviving or Living
In order to be a star you have to burn but I do like the idea where you might burn without ever getting to become a star.Extinguish all of yourself in order to achieve something but fail to leave a reminder or mark of your deeds. That's more beautiful than the brilliance of the star. For the star to shine darkness has to occupy it...
I do think it's something heartbreaking and that makes it even more precious and beautiful. Like the history of a commoner who you'll never get to know. Like the life of a mistress that was never documented.
When I imagine that person burning quietly and never becoming a star… I feel a familiar sense of grief for to burn quietly you must have at some point burned furiously till you found that futile and decided to tone it down in pursuit to curate yourself. Deciding to live for yourself for what can compare to the self gratitude you may grace yourself with.
And yes I do feel like I lost something precious when I stopped burning so furiously as much as I feel like I saved myself by learning to burn quietly and there’s the beauty of the whole scenario unfolds for if I saved myself why do I grieve to be in such a state and if I lost something when I stopped burning furiously why don't I burn with that intensity again but my answer would be such experiences showcase living rather than surviving.. I'm not looking for a picture perfect backstory... I just want to live... Be it without the things I lost when I transitioned, be it with a burden I carry upon myself because of a certain route I choose.
Perhaps the greatest lie we are told is that our lives are meant to be light for other people.
We carry the burden of our choices, the scars of the transition from a furious burn to a quiet one, like a weight. But it is a weight I would rather carry than the hollow lightness of a star that is being consumed for an audience. To live is to accept that you may never be a landmark. You may never be the reason someone else finds their way. You might just be a person, burning softly in a room with the door closed, grateful for the warmth that belongs to no one but you.