Question

"God"
"Yes?"
"Why do pretty human always treated like they do something big to the world, and the ugly treated like they owe something to the world?"

Art and admirer

You saw me.
The light befall your tiny-face making you look like some kind of painting.

I was looking at you, too.
But oh, when i was looking at you i can't help but left in awe, i've never seen art in human except you.

Knowing how much i love art, i don't think it will beat you-you see;
Art stand still, dead-but it describe so many things, making me feel something i can't describe-i love them so much.
But you, you are walking art, seeing you equal seeing every favorite thing in my life, seeing you alive, hearing you breath, seeing you blink; that gives me life. That gives me a believe that miracle exist. Such a perfect human exist.

But, the problem is.
I see you as something so perfect, something that i couldn't reach.
And then i became quiet. I stare, stare, stare. Admire, admire, admire.
In the end an admirer couldn't reach the art. I am only admirer, i can only see.
And i guess she's the artist. She made you. You were made for her.

///

So, me, an admirer.
Saw you in front of me.
I can't help but stare.

And then, you, walking art, or
Walking disaster.
You look at me, the look when an art gives to the admirer. The blank look, the die look, except you, the walking art,
Could look away.

-i'm still writing for you

Kosong

Kosong