Eyy&Est

Aaaaand here comes the real desperation. When people keep writing stuffs even much more beautiful that those you've done, you be like, "I need to make something. I need to overcome this person. I need to I just need to." So here I go; keep making useless stuffs until these hands get bored. I can't draw, I'm not that kind of girl who doodles  on ever piece of paper she ever finds. So I just write, eventho the best is yet to come. Sigh. Why can't I be Charles Dickens.

And this is the cheesy one. I know you don't want to read this, but if you do, well, I've warned you at least?

Moonlight Sonata. The best rhythm I've ever heard, done by people. And it's just, oh, so beautiful. Moonlight Sonata. It just makes me want to draw people in tones, on every line of the scores. It calms me down in the strangest kind of way you can imagine. And why does it have to be this beautiful?

I'm listening to it right now. And maybe you should too. It's a sonata, it is massive I daresay. It makes me want to write, it gives me this courage to be me. And every letter you're reading now, is, well, I just let it flow. Because this is a sonata, it rhymes with memory, with love, with everything you hold dear.

And it's gotten into me through the ears, been blown by the circulation of my blood, and just finally reached the center of my spine. Gives me bumps. Gives me this weird sensation of being infinite. And this is a sonata. Because you can be you whenever you're into this. Because you're dreaming about everything unimaginable when you let yourself drown in the depth of its melody. Because it's a sonata, and you willingly give yourself in.

How can a person make beautiful things out of nothing?

Moonlight, where the beam is reaching you from the outer space, from distance you can never know. You're so small, why can't you understand that? Maybe sometimes things will go wrong, maybe you won't get what you want right at the moment, but you eventually will. You'll be granted with something even more beautiful. So just be you, and wait, and be succeed.

Move your ankles, now. Because time won't wait, because time is so ignorant. Because it won't change direction, and maybe it will never be still. So you gotta move now. Because this sonata is about to finish any minute now, and by the end of this, you have to be as 'you' as you have ever been.