confessions while in-transit

Dance dance dance.

Repel the stares from my fragile thoughts. I realize I haven’t done this in a long time, like a month. Oh to repel the stares.

I outgrew Murakami. Fuck. Actually the only reason why I loved his works is because… it’s the first quality literature I’ve ever laid my hands upon.

Confessions: I am not imaginative. I cannot write. I find it hard to imagine new stories. I cannot draw well. I don’t think I am capable of conceptualizing award-winning ads. Logic ALWAYS overpowers. As if I am imprisoned inside the box of concrete logic. I cannot escape. Why.

This bus is too small for me. I hunched when I entered earlier.

***

Artists are creative because drawing allows their mind to wander freely. They just let their pencils graze their papers, while their minds graze other dimensions of this world.

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