Jar writes crap

This is a collection of stuff I write: it's badly written ngl, especially because it's in my second language lol. Enjoy the cringe I guess?

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Summer Morning

Swim,

through the wheat fields

and the silent sky

that blend in a

Summer morning.

Swim,

in the wind,

steeped in pollen and methane,

playing acrobat

on high voltage cables.

Swim,

your eyes see Time

dancing with the Sun

an eternal roundabout

without purpose.

Swim,

sink,

drown

in that Summer Morning:

no need for a "why".

Untitled

I can't help but exist. Today I looked at my cat. I shouldn't say he's mine: he also can't help but exist. We stared at each other. Silent. I raised my hand. He's a cat, my cat, if you will: I should pet him. My hand was there, shakingly getting to his head. It stopped. The cat stared at the hand, then at me: he pitied me. I looked at him once more: why do I reject change? I can't help but exist and die every day once more. I walked away. The cat closed his eyes.

The Machine (my first -and probably last- "long" story in English. Sorry for the lazy naming of the characters, German scientists are such a boring ass cliché)

Hermann Glanz. Egregious Doctor Glanz. Lately, newspapers mentioned him often: him and his marvellous Machine. “Perfectly flawed”: this is how they described it. The beauty of nature enclosed in a Mechanical conscience. Now, the entire world was waiting for the incredible revelation of the Automaton: The apex of Technology, The last victory. But, in this exact moment, there was only Hermann Glanz, sitting in front of me on a thin plastic stool. Me, him, an empty room. “The interview can begin whenever you’re ready, miss” he spoke clearly, a quiet voice. “Sure”. Such a surreal situation: I was expecting to find in him a completely different character. I wanted to write about an inhumane man, but the one who looked at me with those placid eyes was something else. “What led you, Doctor, to the decision of designing the Machine?” “Oh, miss, there’s no need for such formality! Friends call me just Mann” “So, you have friends, Mann?” “Naturally, my dear: we usually meet outside the lab and get a couple of beers at the pub together. It’s good to be in company, isn’t it?” “It surely is”. My attempt to crack a smile probably looked more like a confused grimace. “Are you feeling unwell? Should I get you a glass of water?”. He’d immediately understood what was going through my mind. “No thank you. It’s probably just the weather…” “Probably it is” We spoke for a while. He didn’t reveal anything even vaguely interesting, now that I think about it. He managed to avoid every question about the Machine. I guess he wanted to show it to me before talking about it: it had to be a surprise. Then, Mann slowly got up from the stool. It emitted a quiet cracking noise. “I think it’s time to introduce you to my Daughter”. He gestured to follow him. “Follow me”. He started walking through a bright corridor. His leather boots tapped joyfully on the floor, the man’s pace was becoming faster and faster the nearer we got to the Creature. He looked like a cheerful child about to show me his new favourite toy. A warm ferrous scent filled the air. We arrived in front of a small white door, indecipherable noises coming from it. “We’re here!” Mann could hardly contain his excitement. With a trembling hand, he grabbed the handle. A snap and I was in front of a dark room. “Oh, sorry! The light is still off: meanwhile, you can come in”. A step forward. And then another one, and one more, and. Click. The scientist pressed the light switch. My eyes were filled in an inebriating white. Blinding. And then. The Machine. Magnificent human Android. Ordered mass of disharmonious bodies. Screams of pain, screams of pleasure. It wasn’t possible. Thinkable, no, not conceivable. It was Not. Could it- “Allow me a question, Doctor. How… did you build…?” “You see, miss, I haven’t really built anything… innovative. I’ve simply given life to the greatest human desire”. There was this acrid sweetness in his voice, so sappily perverse to lead me to think he was enjoying the sight of my astonished despair. The incommensurable mountain of bodies moved with majestic slowness, leaving behind it a warm crimson trail. Mechanisms, engines, emanated an enveloping heat. “I understand what you are thinking” Mann interrupted me: “You think this is a monstrosity, it’s madness, a crime against Nature! But stop: contemplate the Work, examine the faces of its gears. Do you see them?” My stomach twisted in that tiny liminal space between pain and pleasure. The blood on the floor was an infinite mirror on which the reflection of the LED lights gracefully danced. I didn't want to look at that abomination. My eyes remained frozen on my own reddish reflection. "Do you see them? They're smiling: they're happy, miss!" There was no malice in the Doctor's voice. It was a fact: those men were laughing and loving their perversion. And who was I to stop them? Who was I to shout for them to stop?! And I had nothing to say. And I had nothing left to say. I went away. I refused to write an article for the newspaper. The Machine had penetrated so deeply into my being that it seemed indefinably distant.

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