Thoughts That Composes the Line Between Myth and Reality

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LITERARY COLLECTION

Thoughts that composes the line between myth and reality

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Literary Collection 1

FOREWORD

Before I even have the chance to close this word file, I wanted to say that I’ve been wanting to compile thoughts and ideas from my mind and publish it even for one single copy. Having been unable to pursue Arts in college, I never wished my artistic ability to atrophy so I do random art pieces whenever I am free. It’s not that easy though, since you need to be inspired in order to create. Contrary to the word “creativity,” I feel like my art is more on being destructive. I consider that way but not in a pessimistic way. I wanted to destroy my art in the most beautiful way possible. Here I am, thinking about how critics would attack my perspective—albeit I know I shouldn’t think about it since this work is not for public viewing. Don’t dare argue with me.

I will write and sketch things that are from my mind. Very random ideas and thoughts. I may be getting some from past experiences, movies, music, nowhere, and what have you. Disclaimer: I will not give a single hint whether the themes are from my own experience or from somewhere. The number one goal of this is to express my eccentricity and my identity as an artist. If you don’t feel like reading it then close this file immediately. You will either be affected or not by my works but get ready to be carried away. I’m dangerous. This is risky. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this. You’re one of the few I allowed to read my thoughts. You’re special to me.

xo

I remember you on rainy days

I smell you on summer nights

The dried leaves remind me of you every autumn afternoon

The cold breeze of winter dusk makes my broken heart ache more

You are like those four seasons we have yearly

Every season comes and goes; but the cycle never ends

How long should I suffer until I feel numb?

                                                                ----------Four Seasons of Pain

Aberration

He loved me after the second date

I always look back at him

That one last time, I didn’t.

We never saw each other.

The guard offered me some lozenges

Inside the elevator, I refused

He let me have the keys

I opened only one door

I was thirsty, hoping for another refill.

I bought another instead

I asked the man behind me

To save my place

He told me to bring my bag

I took the bus, window seat

A lady sat beside me

She gave me a sheepish smile.

                                                                                *Insert a sketch here*

目次 (Mokuji)

It’s so damn hard to organize thoughts.

Flash Fiction 101