Obscure Do you think it's possible to be caged in by potential? By people hoping and waiting for you to become a diamond? You breeze along with your eyes closed, floating on the wind, for years. And then suddenly they pick you up and you smile sleepily, stretch, and go back to sleep as you're put under a cutter. You were always told you could be a diamond. They're good gems...right? Months later you've become a curled up figure, expression coated in a worried frown, eyes scrunched up in pain. Diamonds are pretty! They make people happy! But...they don't get to be happy, right? They can see what people say but goddamnit, they -liked- just being rocks. You're panicking. Scared. Surrounded by people waiting for the glorious twinkle of perfection they know you can attain. 'But...it's my twinkle..!' you think, eyes snapping open. "I won't change for you!!" you scream; dropping to your knees as all the same, you know you probably will. You don't really want to be a diamond. You have the fire of a ruby, the intensity of emeralds, bursts of emotion like amethyst bright, the innocence of moonstone who cannot decide. The apathy of pearl, forever dreaming, the ignorance of amber. The wisdom of sapphires, set in cunning of silver and gold. You stare at this cold clear gem. Suddenly, you realise you don't really want to be a diamond. "If you use up all the potential, then there'll be no potential left!" - a dear friend.