artbase

I have often thought that authors have the easiest job in the world . The artwork they make , after all , is just a few lines on a page , usually not even extending margin to margin -  How long would that take to even write poem , about five minutes ?  Maybe ten at the most, if you wanted it to rhyme or have a repeating meter . For a pieces of story ? tales ? fictional book ? take days maybe , Why ?  I could even start to write in the morning and produce a book of poetry by dinnertime . I could also start to compose story just as fast as the lightning touch the ground and finish to produce at least a book with 10 chapters in it by the end of the day . But we all know that it isn’t that easy. Anyone can come up with enough words finishing one piece , but the authors job is about writing the right ones .  The right words and story that will change lives , making people see the world somewhat differently than they saw . The right words can make a reader who relies on th...

There are this one girl , Her bangs falling on her forehead , Rest of her hairs waving around like a beautiful mess , The smiles which adorns her face , Her beauty making my heart race , Her curls bounce as she jumps up and down , Her feet move so fast when she goes round and round , She looks like a hyper horse , With her hand swinging around lazily , Once again she runs off in her own world , Standing for a few seconds before , Running away bouncing happily , She looks so sweet , so beautiful and carefree . I can see the clothes she put on her tiny frame , Her milk teeth and her fragile hands , I can hear the thumps of her feets wherever she lands , I can still hear her eerie laughters as she play , I wonder who is she , Why can't i see her ? Yet i know her like i know myself , I wonder if she will be back again ? Now , that tiny body who has all the happiness grew up so much , I became the worst version of her , the bigger one too .. But i know somewhere within my heart , reside...

 "Can I.... Can I tell you something about myself, somethin g I have never told anyone before? Right .. Let me... Let me think about it, just a sec. A h, my life story, or my.. O r my family's matter ?, that would be interesting, right? You rather not know that? So... it is No..?  Ok, then how about my friends?  but.. I hardly got one tho. Or... My high school life? Phew! How I hated that place. Or maybe you tell me what you'd love to hear? I'll definitely tell you one if you ask. "Your lov..." O h, Nah! Nah! I cut your words . Sorry haha. Nooo ! not my love story.  Not.  My.  Love.  Story.  It's just that I ... I never... you know, fell in love.  Or felt the need to be loved. B ut.. there's this one time, when I was fifthteen, I have huge crush on this one senior and that's all.  Yeah. Really. No confess. I do nothing.  Some people tell me it was kinda weird, but I ... I don't know. Should I told him ?  My friend like him too ...

" I used.. to have this kind of night too .. didn't I ?" said the girl who lost count , for how many times her heart broke . She remembered that night , She turn her sight to the mirror in her room ,  staring at how tired her soul was , She could only think how haggard she looked like , With bags under her dull gloomy eyes , unkempt hair . wrinkled shirt she wear , stained face nobody care .   She remembered , How she used to have this kind of night too . The night when she couldn't help but wonder ,  be awake upon the feeling of restless and loneliness , upon the suffocation , When her awareness and consciences being crush down . It had been a while , But she had always knew , despite trying not to think about it , The night like once bring her down would some day come again , Bringing doom to her . It was because she hadn't resolved anything , Merely pulling through when it came for her before . She remembered that night , "Oh God ! It's hurt , please.....