There are two screens that make the outside world unreal: one is made of glass, and one is made of pixels.

 There are two screens that make the outside world unreal: one is made of glass, and one is made of pixels.

― Atrona Grizel

I am the staunchest supporter of the USSR: neither a communist nor a Bolshevik—just someone genuine who carries a heart beating fiercely for the motherland. On this matter, I believe I am not alone. Many people can, and do, share this feeling. There is also a culture that has formed around this feeling, and I am always aware of it; I prevent it from entering my mind in order to stay outside of it. Because none of those people ever share the feeling that I feel. For mine is a very particular bond—pure and sincere, cleansed of all culture and influence. People learn about states from the outside, while I rewrite them from within, without corrupting their roots, and thus they cease to be themselves and become an archetype in my inner world. I believe that the USSR—even though I have never been there—is something that only I truly know. I feel as though there is a dark, empty room, and in it, I’m alone with the Soviets. In that room, I see the soft, fearful, and innocent face it shows to no one else.

― Atrona Grizel

They present love as snapping a flower from its branch, fully aware that it will wither in a day or two, and placing it in someone else’s hand merely to stage a “display of affection.” I, on the other hand, see nothing but waste, and it hurts me. They could send me bouquets upon bouquets of flowers, and all I would see scattered around are flowers torn from their branches. The way natural beauty is sullied in human hands, and the human mentality that sells this defilement as beauty, turns my stomach. Love cannot be acquired through gifts, at least not through physical ones. If someone tried to give me a ring, I would see only that materialism has even seized romantic relationships, just as it had been for the entire human history. Thus, I would throw it out the window instantly, perhaps saying this instead: “Give me the real ring.” That is to say, the only true gift is the meeting of inner worlds.

― Atrona Grizel

Society is so hostile to thought that it tries to confine it to certain designated areas and keep it from contaminating life itself. Thought is not welcomed into daily life; it is quarantined, into academies, for instance. And once you step outside those buildings, you are returned to vulgarity. Public life defaults to shallowness. Yet in reality, things are not much different even inside, because institutions like these function less as engines of inquiry and more as containment units. And if a person expresses deep thoughts outside the boundaries of those so-called “nests of knowledge,” society already has a word prepared to label them, turning depth into annoyance: “yapper.”

― Atrona Grizel

Sometimes the Moon feels to me like the world’s voyeur, because it constantly rotates around its own axis, yet always in such a way that its face remains turned toward Earth. As if it has wrapped itself around the world and is watching it endlessly, never allowing it to escape. Every night it shows the same face to the world, because it is spying on it. Luna is Gaia’s pervert.

― Atrona Grizel

When my writings reach people’s hands, they will treat them like bewildered monkeys who’ve just discovered a new kind of tool or object, not knowing how to use it or what it’s for. The reaction will not be comprehension but confusion. They’ll throw them away, then pick them up again. They’ll tear them apart, then try to put them back together. They will jump on them, and then try to eat them. Those chimpanzees will dismiss my ideas, then return out simply of “curiosity”; they’ll misinterpret or distort my meaning, then attempt to “reconstruct” it. They don’t know how to read paradise.

― Atrona Grizel

No institution speaks badly of itself. That is proof that they are indeed so.

― Atrona Grizel

Pride and arrogance are always better than shyness and self-hate.

― Atrona Grizel

Here, take my heart.

It’s right before you.

Its taste is irresistible.

Take it away now.

Wrap it in your beauty.

But don’t startle it—never do that.

It’s fragile; you might lose it.

Carry it carefully wherever you go.

You’ll need it in every realm you enter.

― Atrona Grizel

Most are blind to those rare, free spirits who carefully smooth every mark they make, erase every footprint as they walk through places no one else visits. They make every effort to avoid discovery, to remain unrevealed—as if they are carrying, containing something immensely valuable, something they do not wish to be known or stolen.

― Atrona Grizel

Living on the street would be physically more demanding but mentally easier for me.

― Atrona Grizel

To survive, I stripped people of their humanity in my mind, and naturally I feel no empathy for them, because I think “a fly cannot suffer.” I buried my empathy in the depths of my heart because I did not want it to become, again and again, a toy wasted in the hands of the unnecessary. But I cannot believe that anyone who could reach that depth actually exists; even if such a person might be exactly what I’m looking for, I will not let them into me because I have torn out all faith in their existence.

― Atrona Grizel

To drive a teenager raised in Western culture insane, it is enough to strip them of their pleasure—whether it is entertainment, sexuality, sociality, comfort, wealth, status, or appearance.

― Atrona Grizel

Pride kills communication, and the internalization of this pride by making it into a principle, kills speaking as a whole. With a person who prefers death over giving up their belief, what can be shared or what can be spoken about? Free radicals who are fanatics of themselves are martyr-knights clad in impenetrable armors. Yet they are happy in this noble loneliness they have gained by suffering for it, for their solitude is not the lack of some wretched, happenstance social life one might stumble into; it is a treasure earned through effort.

― Atrona Grizel

People are so small to think that I am small.

― Atrona Grizel

People’s comments resemble a trash bin overflowing. I feel like emptying it.

― Atrona Grizel

The greatest torment? Having to witness myself being “interpreted” by others.

― Atrona Grizel

“This makes me question myself”: this expression should be regarded carefully, for it rarely carries a positive meaning. It is almost synonymous with saying, “This insults me.” People’s identities have, for the most part, developed in ways that exclude self-questioning. One finds oneself facing a humanity that endlessly throws around mottos like “reason” and “thought,” yet exhibits not the slightest trace of either. To question would shatter their sense of self, for their selves are superficial. As they descend deeper, they sense themselves—the surface, that is—breaking apart, and therefore they never dare to try. Since there is no real quality on the surface, there is an excess of spectacle and noise; and this abundance turns self-affirming falseness into a kind of culture, thereby trapping the unreflective person even more tightly within that echo-chamber cycle.

― Atrona Grizel

Democracy proclaims, almost defiantly, that the sheer weight of numbers confers legitimacy and correctness, that the collective voice of the herd outweighs the discerning insights of the lucid few.

― Atrona Grizel

There are two kinds of artistic activity: the intuitive, which writes poems, paints pictures, and composes music, and the conceptual, which generates ideas, dismantles ideologies, and constructs cosmologies. While the first humbly draws stars on a canvas, the second finds such existence small or inadequate and therefore asks: “What is a star? What is the function of space? And why should I imagine the cosmos in this way at all?”

― Atrona Grizel