Magma Star
Bio
Geologist and poet, author of 5 poetry collections.
🌍 Read my stories in 3 languages (EN/FR/HR) on my blog: MagmaStar.com
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Stories (53)
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I Am the Opposite of AI: My Emotion Is for Sale
Sitting in a small café in France, I watch the world go by through a rain-streaked window. People pass with their heads down, glowing screens in their hands, connected to everything but feeling nothing. We live in an era where algorithms predict our next word, our next purchase, even our next thought. But as I sit here, a geological engineer who spent fifteen years in the frozen silence of Northern Canada, I feel like a glitch in the system. I am a human being who feels too much in a world that is learning to feel nothing at all.
By Magma Starabout a month ago in Journal
The Gels of My Life: A Ritual of Survival and Strength
Sitting here in Paris, watching the rain wash the city streets, I am struck by how much of our lives we spend trying to stay clean—not just on the outside, but within. The water hits the limestone buildings of this ancient city, and I think about the layers we apply to ourselves to withstand the weather of life. In a world of clinical solutions and quick fixes, I realized that my survival has been a series of rituals. I call them the "gels" of my life.
By Magma Starabout a month ago in Journal
Five Kilometers of Truth
I hadn’t gone out for a brisk walk in two days. I didn’t feel like it. But that morning I felt something different — I really wanted to go. I dressed for jogging with that quiet sense of pride in choosing myself. My husband said we would go together, as usual. We set off. After a few steps, he told me to slow down. I asked why. He replied that he wasn’t dressed appropriately.
By Magma Starabout a month ago in Poets
How I Forgot Him
How I forgot him. Years have passed and he is truly no longer in my thoughts. Sometimes he appears in my dreams, but more like a mistake — as if he stole someone’s role and suddenly appeared where he doesn’t belong. The truth is he is no longer in my mornings, days, or nights. Gone are the times when I was with him and when I left.
By Magma Starabout a month ago in Poets
The Aesthetics of Silence
In a world where voice is often synonymous with strength, I have learned to appreciate silence. We live in an era of constant noise. From the moment we wake up, we are bombarded with notifications, news, opinions, and the endless chatter of social media. It seems that everyone has something to say, and everyone wants to say it louder than the person next to them.
By Magma Starabout a month ago in Poets
Born Between Shame and Grace: My True Story of Adoption
Some lives begin with celebration. Mine began with silence. It was a late afternoon when an eighteen-year-old girl walked through the wind with her head lowered, carrying a secret that felt heavier than her own body. In a small town governed more by judgment than mercy, there was an unspoken rule: No father, no child. No scandal. No shame.
By Magma Starabout a month ago in Psyche
Coffee with My Mother: A Ritual of Grief and Love
Just when she was about to say how she was, I would appear in the doorway with a sad face. I didn't have to say a word. She would immediately look at me with those gentle eyes of hers, eyes that saw through my skin, and ask:
By Magma Starabout a month ago in Confessions
