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Goddamn. Okay

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in order to dream, we must bracket most, if not all

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its the ugly soul that wants to be seen. It wants to break through the barrier of the abstraction. It pours through the crevices of atention. The shape of the world can only be destroyed by the unseeing eye. Only ideas can really die forever. Because oblivion is the strongest force only equal to creation.

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writing tip #3677:

if you write the same thing over and over and over and over and over and over again you might eventually get it right

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cover for a minizine i'll be handing out at anime nyc this year! :D

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You… are waiting for the train.

It's not a weird occurrence— You have to get to work somehow, after all. (Do you work? Well, of course you do. Why would you be here otherwise?)

The subway is packed at this hour. As the world wakes up and gets ready for the day, many a person needs to be somewhere else; their job, their school, their parent's house. They come into the subway in droves, pushing and pulling each way like a pack of sheep. To the side of the cacophony this comes with, muffled conversations and the of locomotives becoming ambient sounds, you sit on a bench towards the wall.

A kid approaches you. It catches your eye, because even in the mass of rushing people, he manages to make a bee-line for you. He has black hair, tousled messily one way or another on his head, and very big eyes. The light of the subway hits them in a way that you can't help but compare them to a galaxy. You've never been the poetic sort, but his eyes are as dark as void, and that's exactly why they reflect every thing he sets his eyes on with accurate detail. As if they're trying to soak in all aspects of life, so that he may use them later.

He looks like you, a little, though that's dumb because you don't have black hair or eyes, and you weren't that small when you were his age. (Or were you? You feel like you should look at yourself again.)

"You're the one that made this, right?" He says, turning his phone around to show you an image of what is unmistakably your art style. (But you blink, and it's not a drawing anymore— it's a piece of writing, the one you posted the other day on your personal blog. The one with three notes.)

Regardless, what he's showing you is yours. "Yeah."

"I really liked it." He smiles, and for a moment you are alone with him in a sea of people and all that matters is that this child you don't know is happy. "I didn't know other people liked this book. It's my favourite."

Oh, the book. The one your art-writing was about. "It's my favourite too."

Is it? It's a novel you read a few years ago, one that changed your life and impacted more than half of your daily thoughts. Even now, it sticks with you. But… No, no, you haven't even finished it yet. It's a novel you picked up because a friend recommended it to you- you're still trying to see where it goes, but you think you like it so far.

No, but, still. That doesn't sound right. What was the name of it, again?

"Really?" His eyes are sparkling in a way they weren't when he first approached you and you're, again, surprised by how dark they are. You smile.

A new train arrives. It's noisy.

He leans in a little closer so that you can hear him. "Oh, um. That's all I wanted to say. Just, thank you."

The kid turns his head around, searching the crowd until he finds what he needs. "I should… get going, I think. That one over there is mine."

And just like that, you wave him off as his small body disappears amongst the many passengers of the 8:10 train. As the doors close, you think you see him wave back.

Leaning your back against the wall, you let the murmurs of conversations that don't quite reach your ears lull your brain into quietness.

…Do you have a picture of yourself, in your blog?

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ORV SPOILERS!!

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Hi my name is Dokja Read’er Demon King of Salvation Kim and I read a lot (that’s how I got my name) and a lot of people tell me I look like Yoo Joonghyuk (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Sun Wukong but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a demon king but my wings are fluffy and white. I’m also a constellation, and I run a nebula called Kim Dokja’s Company in Seoul where I’m in the leader (not Yoo Joonghyuk). I’m normal (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly white. I love Mass Production Maker and I buy all my clothes from him. For example today I was wearing a white infinite dimension space coat with a dress shirt under it, black slacks and black shoes. I was walking outside the Industrial Complex. It was cloudy so there were no stars, which I was very happy about.

[A lot of constellations are staring at you.]

I put up my middle finger at them.

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999th yjh ^^

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shall we try again?

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does anyone wanna hold hands until we feel a little braver

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dance for the constellations

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worldline

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worldline