I'm not really sure if I have the courage to leave home. I promised myself that before I turned twenty-five, I'd moved out and live in a new city. Things have been comfortable here. We've had our fair share of daily struggles, but in the end, we'd always have enough.

Sometimes I'd see my grandmother stare into space and suddenly break down in tears. I'm not really sure what's going on with her, but she always pleads me to stay, not to leave on, and refrain from travelling.

I'd feel bad about it sometimes. I mean, there are things I want to do on my own, and yet the thought of her kept tying me down. But often I'd think, do I really want to go? I've had a lot of chances to fly away from the nest, and yet I always find myself coming back. So when will I take the plunge?

To be honest, I've never worked really hard before. Aside from menial chores, I'm certain I lack a lot of life skills people need if they want to live alone. I've never entertained any doubts when I'm planning my move, but somehow, at the back of my mind, this little echoing voice tells me that I won't last a month in the real world.

Maybe that's true, and that's what scares me.
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Photo: Courtney Davidson | Pinterest

I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms and I would hide my face in you, and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more.

Quote: Franz Kafka
Photo: Eri Iwasaki | Pinterest

                                                                                                                 

It was getting dark went I got to the lake. I gripped my jacket tighter as the cold began to creep down my spine. There was, and always has been, something mysterious about the woods. Long before, there was a folklore that surrounded this town. I have heard old men talking in whispered chatter, some of those who actually claim to have witnessed, that the greatest of man’s dreams unfold in depths of the lake.

The greatest of man’s dreams? What is the greatest of man’s dreams? Do men share the same dream in general?

I was curious of this. That is how I braved myself to take a visit in the deepest part of the woods. As no one, even those who claim to have seen the mysteries of the forest, has been able to tell exactly what the phenomenon is, I decided to investigate it myself. I sat on the ground behind a rock and waited there until nightfall.

I had no idea when I started to see small flashes of bright light. It was as if the stars were twinkling before my eyes. From a distance, I could hear an indistinct voice. I looked around but saw no one. It felt strange, but the voice became clearer and clearer and began to sound like a soft giggle. 

It was… captivating. It sounded like a shy girl’s laughter, and it was the mildest I’ve heard.

As the twinkling lights continued to circle in on me, I decided to reach out to it. The moment my finger came in contact with the particle, a blinding white light flashed before my eyes! I managed to cover my eyes with my forearm but I have lost my sense of sight for a moment and I could’ve sworn the voice was gone.

Was that it?

I peered into the lake. It was as dark as the starless night sky. I felt rather disappointed. Perhaps it was only the fireflies that gave off their glittery selves, and maybe it was a horde of crickets that laughed at my gullibility. I decided to go home.

But at the moment I turned around, I felt a gush of wind embrace my whole being. There was a gentle melody ringing in my ears but I cannot quite understand how. All I know was that it was magical. I could feel myself weak but very much alive.

The wind gradually collected itself and started to unfold its true form before my eyes.

Long wavy hair…

Supple breasts…

Curvy hips…

Graceful legs…

It was indeed, without a doubt… A woman.

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Oneshot by: Moonbear

Photo: favim.com

"We all need someone to look at us. We can be divided into four categories according to the kind of look we wish to live under. The first category longs for the look of an infinite number of anonymous eyes, in other words, for the look of the public. The second category is made up of people who have a vital need to be looked at by many known eyes. They are the tireless hosts of cocktail parties and dinners. They are happier than the people in the first category, who, when they lose their public, have the feeling that the lights have gone out in the room of their lives. This happens to nearly all of them sooner or later. People in the second category, on the other hand, can always come up with the eyes they need. Then there is the third category, the category of people who need to be constantly before the eyes of the person they love. Their situation is as dangerous as the situation of people in the first category. One day the eyes of their beloved will close, and the room will go dark. And finally there is the fourth category, the rarest, the category of people who live in the imaginary eyes of those who are not present. They are the dreamers."

Quote: The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera
Art: readingyaoi | tumblr.com