Me and the Pencil.

Me and the pencil.

I love the pencil. He’s my best friend when things get hard and I am at lost at what is supposed to be interesting in class. He’s an “almost” when I need him, an outlet of creativity, and sometimes even boredom. Creative boredom.

But lately Mr. Pencil is giving me a cold shoulder as my mind of fantasies of different worlds and characters… go hither. Why must he be so distant? It frustrates me if this dilemma become a bigger one.

Or is it my problem? Maybe what Mr. Pencil was saying to me months back was true. My lack of dedication is lacking, which is resulting in the lack of art. (LOL).

And I imagine he must be laughing at me in my self-frustration, as he watches me be consoled by the ever-kind Mr. Word. He has been far kinder and generous with me lately.

…

Why must I be so…

silly?


LOL. Just something I brewed up right now. I am bored and decided to entertain myself by explaining my dilemma in some funny words. Hope it amuses you like it does me. :J

Boyish dreams.

(I forgot to say this last time.) All ideas and characters © Tsuu (Syama, ME, haha)

"Wouldn't it be nice."

The young boy who spoke such abrupt words was sitting on the edge of the wooden canoe that rested at the dry shore, with his best bud', observing the view of the beach and the sun taking its journey down the deep debts of the ocean.

His best bud' was puzzled.

"What would be nice?"
The boy just smirked, and said: "Nothing."
Pouting was no doubt to be counted for, for his bud' was not satisfied. His friend nudged his shoulder.
"Come on. You can tell me."
"Promise not to laugh?"
"I promise!"
"I think it'd be awesome if we could just fly away from Edner Shore."

There was a small moment of silence between the two, almost as if what had just been said had been taken very seriously. But the boy quickly realized after this that his best bud' was far from taking him serious, as his friend burst out laughing without warning.

The boy with his dreamy thoughts was least to say embarrassed, as he felt his cheeks grow warm. He turned to his bud', who had actually fell into the boat now, holding his stomach tight and laughing like there was no tomorrow.

"Hey, I told you not to laugh!"
"B-but it's so funny!"
"Fine, I won't tell you stuff anymore!" And with that, the boy turned his back, arms folded and pouting.

His best bud' stopped laughing at this, got up from the floor and sat once again beside his friend, spreading an arm around his bud's shoulder.

"Aw, come on. Don't be like that. I get what you mean."
The pouting boy almost looked doubtful, but hopeful at the same time.
"Really?"
There was a moment of thought.
"Um. Well, no, actually."

The boy could only stare at his friend's response in incredulity at this, but then decided to look back at the ocean. It was a better sight.

"Idiot."
"Aw, come on! I was joking! I believe in you, man. Sort of."
The boy just sighed, disappointed.
"Okay."

There was once again, a moment of silence between the two. And as if on cue, his best bud' started laughing again. The boy was irritated.

"What is it now?"
His best bud' just grinned and wiped his teared filled eyes.

"You gotta admit, though. It was pretty funny."
"Oh, just shut up," embarrassed once again.

-- Another scene that popped in my head. I wasn't planning to make this so big. It was actually supposed to be quite small. But alas, I got carried away. Something simple and hopefully likable. :) P.s. I find it waay annoying that if you use either blockquotes or not, you can't use that whole cool way of dividing paragraphs, the old fashioned way. So sorry if it don't look nice and all.

Sorry.

“Sorry.”

The room was dim and cold. Cold because of the rain, dim because of the curtains obscuring the light. Cold because I was hurting inside. The young man who stood in front of me, who I had learned to know so well, looked at me as if such a word was bitter in his mouth. I fiddled with my chain bracelet nervously--the one he had reluctantly gave me--just trying to not look straight.

“Sorry?”

I didn’t have to look at him to know. He was outraged, though his voice was a mere whisper.

I shouldn’t have broken the statue of the porcelain princess. I shouldn’t have hidden Janis’ favorite clothes. Janis’ favorite earrings. The things that Daniel gave to her. What he gave to his fiancé.

The fiancé that I wanted to be.

My dreams were only fantasies, a child’s mere wishful thinking. But I could see that that would soon be over as Daniel spoke what I thought would be his last words to me.

“Pack your bags, Ruth.”

I struggled to not break my bracelet right there. This was going to be hard.

But strangely enough, as he said those bitter words, things indirectly became clearer. As I would soon realize later… that the room suddenly became brighter.

-- A random scene that popped in my head. I've finally realized how to get out of writer's block. Sort of. <:) Sorry about the lack of words lately and thanks for waiting nonetheless.