Tag: prose

Categories
Character building, but not anything specific Stories

Writing as one of my ocs

I typically don’t like walking out
When it is unruly blackness and I
Have to watch where I am going in fear
I will not make it home for supper; it
always makes me fearful. I stay awake

Thinking about the night. I remember
Looking at the abyss and two eyes there
Peered in front of me, opening; I didn’t
wait to see if a smile would appear ‘cause
I took off running to my wife and kids.

I was in the mood to write poetry and use a syllable counter to write each line with ten syllables. I do not know how to write with iambs and feet or really understand how to do any of that stuff. No matter how much I read on it, I don’t understand. I don’t understand it even to make a conlang.

There are just humongous holes in my linguistics and it’s ridiculous how I have characters that are highly educated and intelligent and skilled with abilities that I do not possess or aren’t at the level yet. I want to be great a lot or call myself a polymath, but I’m a bonehead as of now. A young bonehead.

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Categories
Stories

The Jinhi to the Jinhi Hunter

You’re standing upon me,
about to slaughter me in cold blood.
You are staring at me as if I’m not a human like you.
You’re a fool.
You want to destroy my culture,
You will…
But yours?
It’ll be destroyed as well. 
It’ll always be changing, forming, destroying, changing. 

The people will never be happy.
Could you?
You are standing in the presence of a man,
one you will kill.
A man who will never give you your happiness so you seek.
You’re doing your job, and you believe in your job.
Guilt, may it never absolve.

Guilt will go into the nation’s pride,
Into their food,
Into their prayers,
Into their wishes,
Into their wants.

It’ll restrict them from innocence.

It blurs the lines between being good and bad.

However, this won’t stop you.
I can’t stop you.
You cannot see me and you will not listen.

These words will be so much different after you’re covered in my blood.

I don’t have any artwork for this, so I can’t offer you a picture, but this is also an in-story movie antagonist monologue (of course I only speak English, so it’s in English). The Jinhi hunter pulls out his sword on the antagonist (I have not named yet) and the villain sings. This isn’t a song—partially because I’m not in the mood to write one and I don’t know how it would sound anyway.

This is also apart of the same story I mentioned a while back where the protagonist breaks down on set and doesn’t

It’s quite self-explanatory what it is, but if it’s not, feel free to leave a comment. I will respond.

Categories
artwork Rants and Rambles

Study rant

Imitation is the highest form of flattery.

Mimesis of the artists either means you’re immortal or your livelihood is stolen.
in the Renaissance, a human God.
A master worthy of being worshipped as if he was more than,
A hero.

it doesn’t seem like some people care,
to wonder what makes art of the master’s beautiful.
Or even what makes it good to them.

Mimesis.
Your stuff is worth remixing,
Worth putting in an allegorical concepts…
Worth remixing and rematching.

Others don’t matter unless they have that.

Could anyone be a master?
Or was this destined by a god, deity, evil religious figure.
Why do people make Biblicalesque stories and documentaries
And people willingly watch them,
Feeling some kind of connection.

Why do masters feel fake?
As they never existed…
How can someone deny a god, but worship the essence of a man they don’t know and never will know
and imply a person into them?
Am I simply r———,
Or did I miss out on something else?

That I’m to study these artists,
That there’s an objective truth.
That I’m supposed to like these artists no questions asked.
That their skills, talents, and whatevers are actual objective truths,
instead of opinions from those who hold my soul and other’s souls captive.

I question myself…
Why do I care?
Imitation is the highest form of flattery.
I like posting my art on here because I don’t have to source. Completely irrelevant to the post, but it’s fine. I don’t care.