Thursday, August 28, 2014


I always envy those people who can draw using those computer software or mobile applications. I'm stuck with the plain old pen and paper, and if I'm feeling a bit boastful, I'd snap a picture of my artwork and post it on the net or something. Not even a scanner, eh?

To be honest, I do have a scanner. I can download some Photoshop. I can learn on how to use each brush, each stroke, from all those tutorials on YouTube. But all those require effort, and you should never underestimate my laziness. I can draw one thing, decide on inking it, and that's it. I'd feel too tired I'd go to bed straight away. 

Maybe my personal opinion, but I don't think creativity requires effort. It will just magically appear the moment you move your hands and make whatever is in your head comes to life. Then again, maybe those people don't even think Photoshop/GIMP/etc. requires effort, thus the pretty drawings, obviously more sophisticated than mine. T.T

Creativity is too subjective I don't even think you should judge it. You can draw a horse that looks like a cat, and it will look like creativity to me. You can write one short paragraph about today's weather and someone else will always interpret it as something else. Human beings are creative - in whatever it is they do - if only we look long enough we start to see what's behind it.

You know what else is creative and effortless? Your feelings. 

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Used to.

I used to like the phrase "used to".

I used to think liking you is ponies and puppies.

I used to think my feelings were nothing short of magical.

I used to think love (or whatever this is) is rainbow after the rain.

I used to watch you from a distance just to save that glimmer in your eyes whenever you laugh securely in my brain.

I used to... be an optimist.

I won't say everything is falling apart now, because it's not. I'm not crying -- I'm far from feeling sad. But I look at you now and -- the magic is no longer there. I can not remember you for a few days straight and it doesn't hurt. I can read those hurtful messages you sometimes write to me because you're being moody and not be affected by them. I can not feel jealous whenever you hang out with other girls.

I won't say I don't like you anymore, because I still do. But the right word is just -- disenchanted. Maybe I'm starting to like you. For real. 

Love. What are the odds?