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OriFic Various Landscapes I've Seen From Home

Discussion in 'Fiction' started by high_time, Aug 8, 2015.

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  1. high_time Veteran

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    anyway itu bagian akhir'e mang cuman sekedar buat lucu2an aja kok, tapi mungkin cuman beberapa orang doang yg kena jokesnya :XD:

    dan sebenernya itu chapter2 berikut gk terlalu ada hubungannya ama chapter sebelumnya, ini lebih kayak kumpulan cerita random aja kok:lol:

    anyway, thx a lot udah mampir ya :yahoo:
     
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    Landscape 2-3 : The Lucky Number

    I really hate bananas. Last time I ate them my stomach hurts so ******* bad I felt like, someone really wanted to exert vengeance through that banana. Every now and then, when I want to buy some food and snacks, I will take extra caution, not to buy anything with bananas in it.

    Strange how it used to be my favorite food, back then when I was a kid during middle school or late grade-school, our school went to some lodging site. I couldn't really eat the foods, especially since they got a load of vegetables. Mostly I just ate the bananas—kinda drunk quite some cups of coffee too. Ate qute a lot of bananas and my stomach was perfectly fine. It's the vegetables in which made my stomach unpleasant.

    They didn't really serve meats like those back in home, the potato ball with meat and a lot of stuff, eaten with rice, two large balls for morning and dinner time. At lunch during school usually just two slices of bread with cheese in middle. Occasionally fried noodles, when mom got rather lazy in preparing the noodles, she simply put it inside the microwave for a few minutes.

    She put the solid, unboiled state of noodle thing, placed it in a tupperware box, unsealed, with tap water filling a bit halfway or less, approximately. As for my favorite lunch, guess I'd like whatever as long it's delicious. In this case, both were delicious.

    Oh man, I remember that place serving only vegetables during meal time—I friggin' hate them, they simply taste awful. Thankfully there's the snack time during the morning and before dinner. A bit of sweets; cakes, snacks all lined up neatly. More often than not, during the breaks for snack time, I was the first one running from the current session to eat as much as I could before my stomach got filled.

    What kind of event was it really, that I got into this unpleasant lodging site serving mostly vegetables? Just some school stuff. It was just located not that far away from the town, just the outskirts of it. Since the school's religiously affiliated, the event was mostly some religious stuff. Even back then, I wasn't really much into religion.

    I remember there being a lot of fun and games. Especially people enjoy the ones where you had to follow the rules strictly and the ones who couldn't would be called out and be given penalty. We simply love to watch the suffering of those select few who got called out. Probably not too much different from society nowadays.

    At present time, I was probably amongst the few who didn't adhere to those rules. Luckily I wasn't being called out, so people could laugh at me—at least not yet. Well maybe I did, but it wasn't that obvious. Others could just laugh at my own shortcomings behind my back--it was none of my business to care about what they thought.

    Education had served me well to become a member of society. It also had its fun moments where you could bully and down someone who's much different than you. Who in the future, would undoubtedly be much more successful, and when they remembered about you, they would forgive you since they knew, they are much better than you.

    In which had struck me a question. Were the ones being called out in that game earlier, actually be much better than the rest of us--who decided to follow the rules the best as we could, because we were afraid of being punished?

    I was rather sure, that even the ones who were called out, didn't necessarily got to this position because they want to stand out. Some wanted to just be like everyone else. Even when one wants attention, it doesn't always mean the recognition as the one who always get punished, but rather, something good. Or at the very least, something that could make others identify them as the same—as a normal person.

    Not everyone can be 'normal' like others.

    Some are just weird and different.

    That is what makes the world go around. That is fine.

    Though I still wonder what makes the banana so harmful to my stomach nowadays. Maybe if I started to learn how to forgive the banana and convince my stomach to accept it, I shall once again appreciate its taste and feel thankful once again, for its service in providing me meals when there's nothing else I could eat.

    Until next time a banana enters my stomach, I shall diligently prepare for it through hopes and prayers, for the best thing to happen.
     
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    Landscape 2-4 : Torque

    I was afraid of moving forward. I knew I had to confront my own future soon enough, but I kept on running away with the premise of 'living in the present'. Completely forgetting what I should do; what should have done. Though I knew full well, even if I went back to the past, I would just kept on repeating this routine forever.

    Though, the meaning of going back to past, means there would be nothing new. The old things would just kept repeating all over, with due variations, until I grew tired of it. Nevertheless, I wouldn't know what going back to past be like. I could only assume things. Some of them might lead to good implications, especially if I went back, along with regaining the biological youth with maturity of the soul of the times of wrong I experienced, with a new spirit able to tackle these past adversaries—that's if I actually had grown along these years.

    What I felt was more like, the years had weakened my resolve to fight. If I were to confront my past problems as the new me, I wouldn't be sure if I could somehow handled it that well. You could say my resolve to work my best actually waned as I aged. As I discovered a lot more things about myself, I realized how cowardly I was—this entire time I only lived through by taking advantage of others who provided for me. The feelings of regret and guilt only persisted for a moment on, after that, I just went back to usual.

    Knowing, yeah, it would just be a matter of time before I could return the favor to them. That, by discovering more and more about myself, I would gain power. A strength that could make my unrealistic desires viable. To extent it won't be an understatement to think that I would have full control of my fate. No such thing as fortunes and misfortunes in life, but rather, things I decided to be the best for myself.

    Whether it was the life of comfort and riches, or was it some live of boundless adventure so exciting—it's all up to me--not some beings called gods to decide how the course of my life will go. I just believed, that by discovering more about who I am, I will finally be able to reach through many things that I once found unrealistic. Things that I yearned for no matter how far it is from my hands.

    In my last moments before this confrontation, it was also the moment, I was most desperate. As long as I waited, I never know when will the power comes, yet I still cling to it as much as a blind faith. I firmly believed, deep down, even if I knew it probably won't come true.

    This power will make me able to just do my own thing, as if what I must do isn't anymore relevant. It will grant me freedom, without any kind of repercussions. Making me finally able to completely tarnish all hardships and arduous voyages of life. There will be no more obligations, just choices. There will be no limitations whatsoever, just as far as how I imagine.

    Most of all, there will be no more fear, or any kind of insecurity. As those unpleasant feelings had all been destroyed before it even began to bloom. No risks to take since no matter which path, it will be a smooth sailing. All the obstacles, had already been shattered before there's even any confrontations.

    The biggest thing I desired, however, is solitude. I yearned for a world of my own, where I can shape it however I wanted, and made me able to do virtually anything I wished. Without bothering anyone outside it. Just me, having a personal time.

    I have placed this wish quite a lot of times. I never know exactly if life has been getting better or not, at the present moment. Only when I looked back to past, I could see how much have changed. Thus far, some things had been getting worse, but a lot of things got better.

    Still, I knew, from the very beginning of my moments of depression. My own worst enemy might actually be myself. I was the one who dragged myself down to this abyss of indomitable laziness. I was the one who decided, not to ever work hard on anything anymore, even if it means I won't accomplish anything significant for the rest of my life. Since I believe in something that will dispel all of the needs to force myself on being diligent, especially on things I don't want to do.

    Once again, it all goes back to this power. The thing I never know will come or not, though I sure have weakened in a lot of aspects since I kept on believing in that power instead of pushing forward like everyone else. Maybe it's because everyone else did things the same way, I wanted to do things differently, since I don't wanna end up like them. Having to torture my own body, heart and soul. Trading my everything just to survive in their own reality, against my own will.

    That is the same answer in which came to me, no matter how many times I tried to be honest with myself. At some point, I refused the concept of growing up and being responsible with life. I refused a lot of ideals that do not click with me, but at the very least I have my own argument, on why I believe my ideal is sound. The most powerful one being: my ideal is the one who got me out of depression, and theirs is the one who brought it in the first place.

    I do not want to be that kind of person who would think about killing himself first thing in the morning. I wish to be someone who appreciate life in its fullest. In order to do that, I want to make my life be the way I want to. Even if it means distancing myself from everyone else who wanted to ruin it. A lot of people may not share my own sentiment on how life was supposed to work, but at least they can agree, that being alive with hope and happiness is much better than having to feel tormented by each passing days.

    Or at least that's what I believe. I may never know what others think, since I can't read minds. Even if I can read them, it's one thing to actually able to understand and relate to their feelings accordingly. Some people might say, what others think does not matter. I think they matter as much as mine. It's a different thing whether I choose to follow them, or just respect their beliefs and move on, as long as they don't meddle with mine.

    To sum it up. What I wanted is a kind of omnipotence that can make my life virtually the way I want to, without having to bother others or cause any kind of damage to them in any way possible. A kind that allows me to enjoy life to the fullest without any possible repercussions. An easy kind of life without any real challenges, and it's more of a choice rather than being forced to, when I was opted to undergo the harsh roads of life.

    Will it be terribly boring though? It's no worries for me. With how much stuff I can do in life that way, being bored is the last thing that would happen. The things that make me bored are mostly being forced to do things I don't want to do.

    I realize, I'm not merely given this kind of freedom in the present. I earned it through the choices I make and by going along with the things I honestly believed in.

    Once more, I will place my entirety of hopes, that my future will be just the way I wished for.

    Actually, it doesn't matter if it will come true or not. It's just the thoughts that everything will be alright, which actually talked me out of depression.

    I just have to believe on it until the last day of my life, only that way, I could say: 'I have lived my fullest in that day'.

    This is the freedom and happiness that I earned.
     
  5. high_time Veteran

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    Landscape 2-5 : Tomorrow

    My desires are weak. I used to think, just by intensely wishing the most exciting stuff will make me able to sleep the night easily. The desires doesn't have to come true at all, just something to ignite the most vivid imagination possible. At first, it felt as if were real, but as the time goes in a short while, it went drastically reduced to a vague figment of memories.

    Those pleasant sensations can't be reproduced many times over. More times I repeated them, the more saturated it becomes. In which made me realize, even the things that I thought to be my strongest point, was actually rather weak, extremely feeble, even. It's through these assorted tools invented by modern science and technology, which made me able to tweak it to the fullest extent, and gain the most out of it.

    In which came by the term of recording. A truly convenient crutch due to my inability to perform well the more repetitive it is. A one shot deal to make this truly count. I only have a couple of chances before the result turns into a blur.

    Thus began my own story.

    Xxx​

    Snowflakes shattered as it reached the surface of ground. A flimsy chill it was. My mind went through lots of ordeals trying to make this jump. Whatever the reason was, I couldn't tell. I was just, trying to jump across the twin peaks of mountain with a single leap. Even if my resolve wavers, my feet steady and my wings ready to flap away, maintaining my height until I reached the other side.

    The winter was the right time to prove my worth, as it's clear enough who was the more superior in times of decline. The spurt of growth has reached its lowest point; everyone began to recuperate. I stood there, filled with energy and vigor, wanting to prove to myself, I was able to ascend to heights no one could reach. For what, really? I wasn't sure how it worked.

    I didn't train at all. I was mostly just following my own instinct as my feet leapt forward. Before I knew it, I was on the other side. The lengthy leap it was, only took about few seconds. No such thing as the feeling of proud or joy of accomplishment. Even my wings barely felt the air around. Why? I didn't think making that jump would have this meager of an effort, it barely felt anything. What's going on?

    A mocking voice reached through me from the vast distance.

    "There's no point on proving yourself. You're simply different from them. Others struggled to get where you are, but you're simply created this way. There's nothing to be proud of, it's just as expected from you. Now, go home. I'm tired of your stupidity."

    That was the sentence which almost entirely crushed my spirit.

    What was I fighting for all this time, if I were simply created to be able to easily make this jump?

    I saw a storm of meteors scorching the entire snow, their impact caused eruptions of lava so violent it would make a boulder lactate. All that was left was just remnants of burning ice. Completely barren lands of grey, with hardened rocks on top of hardened rocks. It all happened within less than a minute and I felt the entire civilization before me had been annihilated within that short amount of time frame.

    Though the biggest question was: me being inside these extremely dangerous hazard, but completely unaffected by it—not even a single scratch.

    The voice said to me again, go home.

    There were no longer any snow. Even as I looked up to the skies, all I've seen was the outer space. The sky was rather beautiful tonight, I could see a pristine constellation forming something akin to a middle finger. In this silence, I clasped my hands together, praying for all the lost souls from that meteor shower. Just after that, a shooting star fell.

    It caused the entire planet I was on to blow up.

    Here, I was deep in the void of other space, though I could still breathe. Felt like, a lot of oxygen had been swimming through empty blackness, though it might be ether, or even the limitless void energy that's been sustaining me, like I was drowning inside a pull of concentrated fresh air, so strong, my entire skin pores even started to inhale.

    I forgot, where is my home? Was that destroyed planet actually my home? I don't think so, I was merely just taking a briskly walk spanning exabillion light years in a matter of seconds. The distance might be so broad, that I had jumped across few parallel universes so far, I kind of forgot where I was born, or maybe created. It also made me forgot, that I was able to travel such distances away, and by the intimidating nature of that planet, it made me forgot, that I was able to jump much further than across twin mountain peaks.

    The recoil caused by the speed had caused a tremendous damage to my memories, as far as I know.

    Who is that voice? Where was my home?

    A white hole opened right below the void I was floating in. It sucked the entirety of blackness, along with its starts and any drifting celestial objects in sight. Blackness replaced with the scenery of white, in which, mind you, it caused my eyes to hurt a bit. I much prefer calm darkness accompanied by twinkling starts and a low hum akin to the whizzing of space shuttles. All whilst floating in a sea concentrated by ether and void.

    I wasn't floating anymore; I was standing on my two feet. Everything was white and there's complete silence, causing me ears to ring uncontrollably. A deafening kind of silence that would drag me beyond levels of mere devoid of comfort. It made me want to scream a lot, or at least constantly making some noise—none of it actually came out, regardless of my efforts. Everything would always be silent.

    The only noise that could be heard was that same voice.

    "Welcome home."

    Whiteness of my surroundings shattered, and before me laid down a familiar scenery. A house made out of wood. I stood in a room, with a fireplace, its fires burning solemnly in the night. I gazed out the window, the pristine skies from before was still present, now accompanied with the murmurs of crickets, frogs, owls—other critters forming the symphony of dark.

    In front of me lies a sofa made out of animal rug. In there sat a young girl with voluptuous body, the problem is, she was completely naked. She turned to me and spoke.

    "Please be with me again for the night."

    It was the same voice I heard from earlier. The voice who took me to this place.

    There I thought, this might actually be my home.

    On a quiet distance, one could hear the sound of my tent forming.
     
  6. high_time Veteran

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    Landscape 2-6 : Two

    What do I want the most in life right now? Nothing much, I just want to talk about what I truly felt. I'm sure a lot of boring things will just spout from my mouth and regardless of it being boring, it may be great if there's someone who will listen. I have a dream, maybe lots of dreams. Too much of them being a hassle to be told.

    One of those dreams involve myself going to shopping mall with my parents. I don't like following them to do boring stuff, so I drowned myself in the shopping mall fountain. Nobody out there really cared about what happened as I jumped straight in, though I heard violent clasps of hand seemingly belonging to a kid around my age.

    As my body completely submerged in the fountain, I see invigorating white light beneath floating shimmers of water. I swam and swam below, until a hole opened up when I reached for the light. The entire water started to spin around as if becoming a whirlpool. Its centrifuge momentum sucked me downward—a rough ride it was. Completely forgotten what it's like to ride a roller coaster, but nowadays, when I think about roller coaster, I would soon remember this dream.

    After completely drowning in the whirlpool, I found myself back in home. My parents weren't around. The first thing I want to do is probably just look for some porn discs and masturbate naked all around the house—because I friggin can. I especially want to see those flicks about one skinny girl got gangraped by thousands of black men with one milometer penis but all I get is lesbians. I completely forgot that both of my parents are actually young girls.

    How was I even born? Was I adopted? They said I am their flesh and blood. What's going on, I'm so confused. Few hours had passed since I checked in all of the porn discs in the house. None of them seem interesting enough. Though, I happen to come across a completely black disc case located on top of the darkest corner of the warehouse. I found out, it's actually about my parents having ***. Both of them had a large penis on top of their already visible huge chest. The first thing I saw on the screen was their huge, gaping v*gina though.

    That's when I masturbated like crazy, though before I finally finished it, the door sprang open and both of my parents came to me—completely naked. They said : you've been a really naughty child, it's alright.

    Since then, all of us were always completely naked in the house when the guests are not around. Though, I felt resigned when they decided to go full nude the next time they went to the shopping mall. I will pass this time. About hours later, I've seen the news about the various accidents along the way as the people see two futanari girls walking casually.

    I kept repeating to myself, those things have nothing to do with me, not at all.

    That's when I went back to sleep in that dream, and making that dream over that way.

    I heard that clasp once again; it was my little sister. She smiled at me, pointing out that my penis is extremely hard, right beneath my blanket.

    I could only laugh as she called me over for breakfast and skipped down below.

    Xxx​

    There is hope. I know there will be hope. There was hope, and it's coming again

    Right behind me, I felt it. No need to suffer anymore. Every single day will be filled with smiles, I knew it. How can I be so sure about that? I don't know. There's this thing called my gut feeling. I felt it's coming near.

    Something big is about to happen.

    Speaking of which, do you think I sound like someone who's about to die?

    If that's the case, you can be a good friend and talk to me, rather than just ignoring me like you always do.

    Well, listen to me. I'm going to tell you a big secret.

    There is a tunnel leading to the room containing the most yearned for secrets. The knowledge to take over the world. Quite a few people had come and read the secret letter containing it. They left with disappointment, thinking it as a load of bull.

    It's just a blank piece of paper, that's the secret. I believe, there are many ways we could interpret that blank piece of paper in pertaining to the secret, of taking over the world.

    We all have ideals, but each one of us started as a blank slate of canvas. Stuff around us influenced to some extent, our core beliefs. I believe, when the world is painted by our own dreams, on how the world is supposed to work, it means we're truly taking over it. Maybe you can say, it's easy, since we just have to follow the beliefs of many, the things that most, if not all, believed that as the set of rules in which defines reality.

    Go right ahead, if that's what you will. With everyone ruling, there might as well be no ruler. With all of these differences in opinions, each voicing their sounds as if they're kings, but no one to obey. Nothing will change at all—that's what my bleak vision saw.

    I at least know one thing about how the world should be.

    Giving more advantage to myself, much more, in order to make my life a lot easier.

    That's all.

    About the others, well, they could just mind their own business.
     
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    Landscape 2-7 : Flying

    A lot of things can be said, but as much as I want to say things, not all of them can be conveyed. Restraints placed all over as I turned my deepest desires into words, or any sort of tangible ideas that may be judged by others. To release all the inhibitions, I began to symbolize it, to the point it completely deceived them of my true original intention.

    That way, I can say everything without actually revealing anything. Not because I don't trust those who appreciated me, but because I know, not everything can be accepted, even though in my hands, there's a lot of freedom around. I know, at the very least, some of the things I want to say, I felt really uncomfortable saying. Things that mainly will be met by them telling me to just grow up and go back to reality. A lot of these inhibitions came by, and soon enough, it becomes harder for me to convey what i really want to.

    Even when put into words and tangible ideas, my mind forms a dishonest association, that this ain't what I truly wanted. Maybe I won't even understand what I want for the rest of my life. It will always appear as a quiet hum at the back of my head, a warm feeling rested down my chest. That is, the true nature of my desires, as far as I know.

    As much as I tried discovering myself, eventually iI discovered that the more I revealed about my own self, the more I deceived myself about what i truly want. Or so all of these years undergoing self-discovery was actually just for naught. Maybe just a naught was much better than doing nothing at all and paying no effort to know the important things for me.

    I remember something happening way back. It might be one of the most damaging thing one could said to me. The one that completely judges my character on things they deem is right. Rendering me to be some immature child who had issues. Using their own standards to decide things that define others. In all honesty, all I can give is a fake message just to appear as I'm not immature or defensive—that it's alright, it's just their opinion and I can respect that. Even while I was looking back, I believe just staying cool like it was nothing, would be the best course of action.

    After all, when I wanted to pour my feelings, I can do it fully through art and stuff. Though, I believed, at times it may be better to just say it outright to people. After all these times I felt like I have been distancing myself a lot from them. I began to think, they're not worthy of my trust and I'm not good enough for their attention.

    Art, for me, is about expressing my feelings. I cannot do it to impress others. I cannot do something that might actually be good. When I think about an idea that might be amazing, I just can't get motivated to work it on. I hate having to create fictional universe and correct all of these plotholes or something—it's like trying to cover a lie with a bigger lie. Even though I might actually be better at lying than I thought I actually was.

    I hate being burdened to continue my work. I hate having it as a responsibility rather than being a way of expressing myself. No matter how much people urged me to, I couldn't get motivated to fabricate all of it. I also have no interest in learning about the fundamentals and stuff in order to make me better. I have no interest in reading those so-called books and stuff that a lot of authors referenced as something that could inspire them.

    I guess I don't like that way of making art. Regardless of what others say, I don't take kindly to criticism. Because I'm not looking to meet the standards of others. I just want to say the things I want to say, like pouring down my honest thoughts to a good friend. For me, a good friend is the one who will listen to everything, without outright judging me and telling me that my views are wrong. If they listened to me, maybe, or just maybe, I can open up to them, listen to theiradvice, and do the things they wanted me to.

    Though, for the ones who only wanted to see what they wanted to see, and force their standards upon me. Sorry, but I had closed my heart upon you. Farewell.

    It might be cool to see me being able to write these kind of stories or making some kind of art like those stuff I admired, but I guess, out of respect, I don't want to go that path. I believe, these people are the best at doing these kind of stuff, and will always be. For me, who didn't take these things seriously, or strive to make myself better at all, it would just be insult to the masters, even if I remotely wanted to go where they are.

    I just wanted to do things I can do. I do like art stuff a lot. It's mostly the things I had been focusing these years, but as for trying to make a living through it, my pride and ideals are too much for me to be able to sell anything. Yet, that's actually the thing I'm able to do, pouring my feelings, or more exactly, whining—how would that help me earn a good living at all? Well, I probably don't know and don't care much about it to even started working for real.

    I guess I do hate working a lot more than that.

    In fact, the thing I hated the most is working on the things I disliked, and moreover, being forced to it.

    Though, if I could sell my art just by pouring my feelings, and making millions without the fear of being judged and criticized, since there's always the one who'd be defending me and supporting me—I guess that might be a good thing. I'm not sure though, if that's what I really want. I probably would never know it, even as much as I dug deeper to the depths of my heart.

    I guess, it's just a different kind of talent that I have when it comes to art. I'm very slow at learning things, those fundamentals and stuff. A lot of effort can be had, but it most likely will not bear any fruit at all. With my original intention in mind, it all becomes pointless. Though I guess, when others suffer through art trying to gain appreciation of some sort, I actually liberated myself by being able to pour everything down.

    Even all of those that might be morally incorrect—guess when it comes to it, nothing actually matters at all. Just the things I want to convey, and I will do so without inhibiting—if I can.

    What I love the most about art is, when other fields require you to restrain your emotions, art told you to be yourself and be what you want to be. It talked me out of suicidal thoughts; it made me able to appreciate life even though shit happens. Well, it's not like the actual art has no rules. I know out there it has a lot of fundamentals and laws everyone who claim to be an artist 'must' follow.

    I'm perfectly fine not calling myself an artist.

    I'm just someone who want to heal themselves through art.

    That is all.

    I know these people are the best on impressing others through art, but I know, when push comes to shove—the only one who could heal all of these churning feelings, is myself.

    Let them to what they do best, and let me just do my own things.

    I guess, that will be a time where I experienced peace of mind after a long while.

    Thanks, for being with me this far.
     
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    Landscape 2-8 : Drinking

    In the name of the moon, I forgot the name of the moon. I was left out to do the stupidest things the world could offer. Maybe just sleeping all day thinking that I was just a 12 year old during an endless summer holiday. As each day passes, my mind went dormant, with the only thing present being merely sleeping my mind out, not having to care about anything else.

    I remember when I was actually 12, it was far from being a carefree childhood life. You had lots of homework and the only breaks were during Sunday when you have to get up in the morning to watch cartoon shows airing for not even an hour and most of the good parts were cut to make room for shitty commercials. Nowadays I could just watch an entire season worth of shows in just a single day without having to mind the schedule.

    About the homework, I technically had only a single, big homework during the course of summer vacation, and after that I could be free to do whatever I want, and I still haven't done it, not at all—not even an actual progress be made. I wonder how I became that lazy. Though as lazy I was, it was even more surprising that I was still able to write like this.

    Back when I was 12, I also remember having to go to school almost every day, and interacted with quite a lot of annoying people. I had a lot of hate and angst going on. As for now, I rarely had to come during classes. Last semester I kinda have to deal with one requirement class and that's it. Spent months just for actually taking a little step forward on the right direction, and it's after lots of scolding from my parents. I still met quite a bit of people through the internet, they're rarely annoying and rarely instilled any hate.

    So I guess, in quite a lot of sides things were much better now.

    The biggest change thus far was, why was I getting extremely lazy to do things I should do, and I actually kept on sticking to merely doing things I could put up for later? I probably could just finish it off many months back in a jiffy and actually spent the rest of summer holiday just relaxing and doing nothing—everything's gonna be alright. Maybe I didn't feel like doing it, not at all. What's important for me, ain't doing things 'they' think I should do, it's about doing things I wanna do.

    What I wanted to do is just getting back to my childhood self, just without all the hassles. I think it's enough to view the world in the grey, negative, pessimistic eyes an adult does. Not saying I'm even remotely close to an adult, probably I'm the furthest away from that. That is fine. I think I don't have to go along with the people's standard of maturity and stick with mine.

    In which I defined as, choosing for myself, what's best for me. I choose the freedom in the present time, even if it means sacrificing my entire future. Since there's no knowing when I will die, so I've gotta life my live to the fullest, the way I want to. As simple as that. I don't have noble things to do, I don't care about the world around me. I don't want to think about all of the complicated things out there. The thing I wanted to do the most, is just sleeping when I wanted to sleep.

    Sleeping without a single care in the world. With that in mind, I guess I can just continue with my usual roundabout things.

    Xxx​

    Eight glasses of water each day keeps the health from withering away. I forgot to count each one, but I at least will drink to satisfy my thirst. There are times when I forgot to drink since I was a lot preoccupied in other things. I remember when I was hospitalized, had to drink a damn lot I felt sick of it. Thank goodness I didn't have to go through that again. At the very least, I was healthy at the moment.

    The last time I actually got sent to hospital was probably because of the mass of stress coming by. I got lot of hate going on both in real life and the internet. I kept forcing myself to do things I don't want to because I wanted to get the appreciation I think I deserved. Turns out, things didn't turn out the way I wanted to be. After I was hospitalized, everything seemed to change.

    No longer I wanted to push myself beyond my limits anymore. I just wanted to make sure I was taking things easy, so things like that won't happen again. That's probably how I got extremely lazy in the long run. Was that a bad thing though? I heard people only focused about the bad things. There has to be great things about being lazy.

    For example, it makes you able to formulate the most efficient method of getting things done, and taking a decision in which you think about stuff in the long run, deciding with all the assumptions of the future, that by deciding that stuff, you potentially will just go through the least amount of burden and the least amount of work and effort.

    Also, with me being lazy, I actually had, probably quite a lot more things I churned out in these recent months than what I could accomplish many years back. That was, not thinking about the actual quality, but at the very least, I could look at my more recent stuff with a little bit of pride. While on the past works, I was quite embarrassed with it. I could say, that as for now, I was doing the things, almost completely because I want to, maybe a part of it was due to myself not having better things to do.

    That could only mean this is the best thing to do.

    In any case, I do not regret the things I have done.

    I probably would live my entire life with regret if I hadn't done this sooner.

    That would be all.
     
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    Landscape 2-9 : Eating

    What have you done to your own balls?
     
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    Landscape 2-10 : Doorway

    A man woke up in his home, just like usual. He met his little sister, still growing up, trying to wake him up from his slumber. Though, he already woke up quite a moment before his sister came by—he just pretended to be asleep. He knew he had work in the morning, but he wished for his little sister to keep on shaking his body and caressed him for much longer during the morning. It's not like his job were unpleasant or the food ain't good. He just felt like, the sensation of her touch was incredibly dreamlike—more often than not it caused him to fell asleep and did not wake up again.

    The similar thing happened when his mother, father and seven his little brother tried waking him up. He's just so much of a sleepyhead, though it didn't really take as long as when his little sister tried waking him up. There's one thing which did woke him up real quick, either the mention of 'pizza', although it didn't woke him up every time. Though the thing which was the fastest method, was actually when his family tuned in the news out loud in the morning.

    He hated the news so much, though he loved his little sister to the point it reached disturbing levels. Once in a while he tried eying her youthful body, at times even tried peeking at her during the bath. Everyone in his family knew about his behavior, and especially his little sister. She seemed to be enjoying it very much. Though, there's something his family knew, that the man didn't know. They didn't want to let him know at all. It might totally ruin his fantasies.

    As much as he tried peeking so much, it all ended up in a failure, but not long after his persistence paid off. With some tools he ordered through the internet, he observed his sister while she's in the bathroom. She was stroking something large, hot and throbbing between her legs.

    Rather than completely disturbed by it, he began to feel something new awaken inside. Her cute, slender body with no body fat and her small undeveloped chest had already been his object of desires, but with that huge thing which gave a total contrast, it somehow made him want to yell the world 'hurray' and scream as much as possible from the top of his lungs.

    Was his sister actually a boy though? His eyes precisely observed her chest, it might be quite late for her current age, but it was there, just waiting to grow. He looked closely down below as his little sister spread her legs and arched her body backwards. The pink region was still there. He already observed her with perverted thoughts ever since she was a child. Even though he didn't explicitly want to molest her, his family sent him to college, also sent him to live alone.

    Now she's practically at the age of consent in this country. So he thought, it might be okay to start making moves on her. Though yeah, during his observation, he ignored something completely obvious and visible on the first moments—her moans. She was moaning something as she furiously rubbed her thingy.

    It wasn't her brother's name. It was the name of a girl—was it her classmate?

    Did she turn into a lesbian? No—with that thing, she could just date a girl and it's alright. They could have intercourse just like boys and girls. As he was lost in thought, something white covered his screen and the display went offline.

    That happened during the day-off yesterday.

    The reason why he woke up earlier during the morning, was because he felt so intrigued by her body, he slept soundly at night. It made him slept much earlier than usual, and felt already full of energy. He began to think about some other thing which made his head spin: if her penis was actually that large, how did she managed to hide it so well all this time?

    Even if his own penis were rather small, it's still visible when he walked, and when he got erection, it's embarrassingly apparent. With her own size, how did that even work? Since his mind was filled with gutter, the only conclusion he could think of was—magic.

    He waited until his sister came by, but she didn't come. Did she knew that he was spying on her? Thinking it might be the case, he felt really bad about his actions. Since she tried hiding it from him all this time—maybe--or just maybe—he couldn't finish his thought.

    He cbecked the clock, it was way earlier than usual. She might as well be sleeping. Out there the sound of crickets could be heard, and the outside was half dark. Since she probably had school today, wouldn't it be rude to wake her up this early? Especially since it was Monday, the worst day of the week.

    The curiosity of his eventually managed to make him intrude on his sister's sleeping time, as he quietly tiptoed towards her room, not that far off across his own. He wanted to question a lot of things in his mind: questions that he normally would be embarrassed to say in front of her.

    He tried knocking rather subtly in case she was actually sleeping. With such low noise it was, her sister responded from the other side of the door:

    "Come in, brother."

    She knew it was him, even before he managed to say anything. His feet froze on the spot. He felt a tinge of guilt, but he knew it was his responsibility to clear things out.

    His hands reached for the doorknob, slowly turning it as to make as quiet noise as possible. His sister was there, wearing her usual pajamas, though she didn't cover up her bottom at all. She spread her legs nonchalantly, with her huge thing dangling about freely in the air.

    She did knew for sure—he thought. As much as he wanted to say his words, he couldn't stop staring at her penis.

    "...I'm really sorry I couldn't tell this to you earlier." what she actually said.

    "...ummm...it looks good on you."

    "From the very start, I knew you were such a pervert. I didn't hate you for that. I like when you yearned for me, sorry I couldn't give it back."

    "You have someone you like? I guess it's okay, siblings normally couldn't be together."

    "No....it's not like that...I'm just, not ready for us to date...I need time to..."

    "...huh?"

    ...

    ...

    ...

    "The one I'm actually interested in, was actualy our neighbor's bitch."

    He laughed from the bottom of his heart, but on the outside, he could only smile.

    His little sister laughed too. The day went on like usual.

    Though the neighbor's dog had died during the night, its asshole got ruptured in a size of an elephant's v*gina.

    That's all.

    End of Landscape 2​
     
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    Landscape 3

    Atop a Green Meadow

    Landscape 3-1 : Skies Forever Blue


    I love watching the skies as much as I loved watching those who stood in the light. I used to think of them with envy, but now I'm grateful, really grateful that they exist, since they were the spark in which brought me the reason to keep striving for heights unknown to me. The moment I destroyed my delusions, I began to see the truth in front of me.

    It's okay to be delusional, but knowing to draw the line is what keeps me from being hurt by it, and still makes me able to derive the most amount of happiness.

    So I guess, let us continue on living inside the illusion, now being fully aware of it, and use it to our advantage. That's how I finally come in terms of the magic inside of me.

    Will outside world be filled with magic also? I shall find out soon.

    Xxx​

    It was a peaceful day like usual. In front of my door, there lies a musical box. The box was rather heavy, made out of metallic stuff, although it was soft to touch. With the size of a small-sized birthday cake, it sure had a lot of density packed within. I opened the box; it contained quite a lot of contraptions, making my head spin. Wait a minute, in front of me, I saw—train tracks.

    As I started turning the knob of the box, the train started to move from inside a cave. It was a green colored train. Each time the train stopped briefly at a certain point, a melody played out. It kept playing until it continues with the one in the next stop, the sequence of melodies played out synced rather perfectly, I wonder if the entire melody was pre-recorded and the train was just there for something to look at.

    So I tried to halt the train with my fingers. It would be okay since the train didn't go that fast as if trying to impact hard if I stopped it. The melody kept on playing and it stopped at a certain point.

    Before that I made the music box turn for about 3 times and heard each sequence of melody. It all played from the start to finish with same sequence over. I stopped the train at the first melody, and the melody kept on playing even though the train didn't move. The box simply ceased its music after the tune ends. It sparked a riddle to me. Did it have to be a train passing through? Did I have to turn the knob for it to hum a song?

    I turned back the knob,making the train froze in one place, exactly where I stopped it. I saw the stops being marked with a number, starting from 1 to 9. It opaquely stood out with its colors. I tried pressing the stops with my hands—no it didn't hum a melody at all, no matter how many different combinations I tried. Actually didn't experiment that much, just randomly clicked things until I was bored.

    Turned the knob again, the train continues on the next stop, playing the second melody. I turned off the knob, dragged the train across the third stop, nothing happens. After I was feeling rather bored, I thought—what will happen if I reversed the train's direction?

    The train actually still moved forward in its tracks even if the direction its facing are complete reverse. It made no sense at all—it looked rather weird just like seeing someone's doing a moonwalk run. The third melody continued on playing where I stopped it, and as it reached the fourth stop...

    It played the fourth melody in reverse.

    I remember, the entire tune so far resembled a medley. Parts of song that were assembled and played together; it formed something completely different as a whole. Though, I think, while the original tune sounded like a merry Christmas song, while played in reverse, it sounded like a hidden message from Satan telling me to have *** with an eggplant.

    I wonder if the entire music box was an elaborate prank to play pranks on me while I was trying to play pranks with it?

    I don't know how the heck did that box ended up here in the first place. There's no way that box would end up here inside my room through the door. Now that I think about it, why am I not suspicious of this box in the first place, and instead of just throwing it away, I played and tinkered with it for so long—I might just be extremely bored to death, everything that seems remotely fun would be nice, even if it would cost my life.

    Wait a second, why the harmony got played all of sudden? I never turned the knob at all. It continued on and on until I realized—I forgot to turn off the knob in the first place. These tunes kept on torturing my ears with each of them being played in reverse. Over and over, until I finally collapsed.

    I woke up inside my bed. Was it a dream after all?

    Beside me, slept a little girl wearing my pajamas. It looked a bit loose I could somehow see her nude flesh. As I woke up, she also woke up.

    "Your soul is mine." she says

    In which I replied:

    "There's nothing to take for me, I got no soul to begin with."

    She started to cry without end. Saying, daddy is mean or something. Did I ever got married? Did I ever had a daughter at all? I think my entire life, I was a NEET or something. Living without a care about my life. How come did I?

    "Wait, if I'm your dad, where's Mom?"

    "Cooking downstairs."

    "Is she very pretty....like....you?"

    "Yes. Otherwise I don't think I would be born at all."

    "Maybe I could be drunk when I did your mom."

    "I never see you drink alcohol at home, Dad."

    "What if I could get drunk on coffee, or even mineral water?"

    "I didn't remember Dad being that way also, not at all."

    Wait a minute, something didn't feel right.

    "Why did you ask for my soul?"

    "So I could finally stole Dad from Mom."

    "I don't get the logic. There are lot better guys out there, why must me? Besides, aren't you basically too young for romance?"

    "Dad, you don't understand. I only want you. I want to do stuff with you."

    This girl, it's not that I don't have a thing for little girls but, it doesn't feel right to exploit someone this clueless.

    "Well, only at one condition. If you can find this certain musical box--"

    So I described this musical box to her. She immediately dragged it from under my bed. It was exactly the same box as it was before. The heavy box with train tracks in it.

    "Lemme turn the knob..."

    Me and this girl watched it as we sat on the ground. Just before it started to play the first melody, ripples start forming on my sight. Something cracked open before me, and as I reached onto the thing beyond the blackness, I woke up once again. Now I'm back in my own room, with the musical box in front of me. My back hurts a lot.

    It was a really vivid dream, or more like, I wasn't sure whether was a dream or whether was reality. I nearly took advantage of a defenseless little girl. Even though she was really pretty and had a lot of sexual charm, I would pass onto her, even if she looks around the age of consent of this country.

    One thing to find out for sure, was to try it again, playing the tunes in reverse while I was lying in bed. Until the next chance comes again though, I would like to save this box for later time. For now, I've had enough of these shenanigans. I might not know how did this box come and what it meant to be when it was given to me.

    As for now, I just wanted to focus on my daily life before I tried tackling those unknown consequences.

    So it be.
     
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    Landscape 3-2 : Alligator

    Brown bear man nestled himself in his house, or should I say, cage. Mr. Brown Bear has a nice family: a wife and two healthy kids. Everyday, tons of people watched him and his family in the zoo. He doesn't care a single thing. Every bear was well-fed and well-cared. The animals were free to do whatever they want—not just because the staff members were lazy about giving training. More like, they were basically afraid of the bears.

    They could administer tranquilizer shots, using sleeping drug in foods, or electrocution, but it appeared all the means were ineffective when they tried doing so. At one point Mr. Bear got really violent he started hurting three of the staff members. All of them were young girls and raped them. None were seriously injured, their hymens were intact—though nine months and 20 days later, they gave birth to bear humanoids. Their features mostly human, with some bear features, look up for some monster girls made in the far east.

    That aside, these three bear girls were raised as a human and they never met their father. Those three staff members were relocated to another zoo.

    To sum it up, the bears were resistant to change. Not until they evolved to human beings through evolution they started to feel a tinge of shame. Especially since Mr. Bear forgot to cum outside and Ms. Bear forgot to tell Mr. Bear to cum inside, and the kids didn't know how to masturbate so they have to ask their parents each time. That's how so many people came to watch bear family. No regrets about being watch once they were humans—they felt excited on being watched, also.

    When it's winter, they couldn't hibernate anymore. They were moved to some other place. A place where they could have *** anytime without disruptions—a peep show. Mr. Bear has an exotic body and large sized dong but he also looked really cute whilst cross-dressing. Ms. Bear had such huge chest and voluptuous physique it made countless guys and girls droll, especially the girls. Both of the kids were raging lesbians who were too much into incest.

    Most of them wanted to bone Mr. Bear's hole though.

    Ten years later, the bear family still looked as youthful as ever, no changes. They just accumulated so much money they could live their entire life extravagantly their entire life. Though, all they cared about is ***. So they modified their body through the advances of technology. Needless to say, that during the first night them showing their new form—everyone died because they fapped too much.

    With that happened, the world entered a post-apocalypse state. With cute horny zombies that didn't infect anyone, except if you thought hypersexual libido was a kind of disease.

    Maybe it was a disease--as long it interferes with your productivity.

    Xxx​

    Believe me, I wished to be productive. Once again, please believe my words. I know one thing for sure, pretending that I have godlike powers and made me could finish things in a matter of seconds were actually the magic trick of making me extremely lazy. Sense of tiredness filled my lungs, and within the back of my mind, each of it lingered the thought of sleep.

    So long and goodnight, I was very sorry that I couldn't write stories you would like. Maybe, after I could sober myself up and finally went on to become more diligent, a lot of things could be procured.
     
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    Landscape 3-3 : New Favorite

    I guess it's easy enough to make yourself feel good. Instead of aiming to get better, you can just degrade all the things that is making you feel bad. No matter how great others are, everything can be considered as a flaw, and with that thing in mind, you also can hide your complex when it comes to the things you've worked on. At least compared to having to learn all the same things and going through the same hell, to be as good as that other person you undermined.

    Not everyone has similar amount of talents and expertise. However, some of us would like everything to be same and equal, or else they will pick up those that are different—usually much better than them. They were afraid that talented person will damage their self-esteem, so they began to view them in negative light—as if that other person wasn't talented at all. The ideal world of them, maybe, was for everyone to be equally talented and achieve a lot of great things in their own way. No one would be greater than any other.

    Whether you worked hard or worked lazily—it's just your own way of doing things. No one has to dictate you have to worked your hardest to succeed. No such rules to define what is the absolute truth. Everyone's a god of their own—a god of their own lives. I guess, it appears so when we look at reality as a whole. Even if we didn't have similar amount of talents or determination—all of us were good in some ways. Though, not all people could see it or even appreciate it. Not all things could be appreciated.

    There were always some things that other people rated so highly, that I couldn't even understand what it was about. What I had seen was a loud of bullshit gibberish. Some of them, I could understand it could be great—just not my cup of tea. Others were like, I couldn't even begin to understand what makes this so great. Maybe I was just different—I was in the minority. Was the world unfair because of that?

    For me, yes. For them, definitely fair.

    I think of one of the most unfair things in this world. Your success is solely decided by how you can attract people. No matter how good or talented you are, the only thing that matters is your ability to attract others—the right kind of people. Loners have no chance to make it big. They were forced to be social, even though they didn't want to. Even if they ended up successful, they're mostly being used by those who had the power of people, which in turn would gain many fold of what they did on their own.

    I don't necessarily hate people. It's just, very hard for me to accept on how little the things I can do without others. Even the food I eat, the clothes I wear, electricity, all the fun I spent in social media, online games, even single-player games made through lots of love and dedication. A lot of countless things that defined my life, were made by others. Even this idea, all of this idea was inspired by someone else.

    That was the moment, I realize there's probably no individuality within me. I was just a sheep that followed others wherever they go. The more i denied it, the more I actually fell so far in, very near the point of no turning back.

    Survival of the fittest. Your survival solely determined by your ability to adapt and conform. Forcing you to do things you don't want just to live. Forcing you to struggle on a lot of things, some of which completely degraded you as a human being. Another harsh truth I couldn't accept.

    Though, did I really attracted no one at all? Did I really have no hope at all? How did I even managed to live so long with me being this way? I never adapted to anything, I never actually tried to make myself any better in something. Most of all, I didn't care—I don't give a shit about a cruel reality in front of me. I just wished to live in my own world, a little world filled with delusions.

    Others may have great talents to do what they can. As for me, the greatest things I have, is my hope and my delusions. I believe that everyone can become god and live in their own world, able to do virtually anything they imagine. The big question is : how and when will this occur in reality?

    I only know to gain those powers by discovering more and more about myself. Even if it means completely isolating myself from many others because I couldn't conform to any other ideals. I thrown away all of the other endeavors that might made me succeed in the real world, just for discovering this. Yet, the more I yearned for it, the more I realized, how I was, fundamentally, a mere human.

    A weak human, not a god. I could bleed, I could feel pain and sense of disorient. There's not much things I could do, no such great things I procure. Yet all of the things I thought up; the many things I dreamed; a lot of stuff I hope, more often than not, made me imagine myself as something much more than a human being.

    That I deserved something a lot better than being in this shithole. I hated working though--even if I could spend my entire day just thinking about a hell lot of possibilities that would happen if I possessed some unrealistic powers.

    Yeah, come to think of it, even with me as I was, there's a shit load of things I could do. I also had done quite truck pile of shit in all these years, it gave me headache to think about it. A lot of these things and I was still a nobody. A lot of things I could do with these limited amount of powers, very limited even, and I didn't do it, since I was very lazy.

    If only it took a mere flick of seconds instead of hours, and the amount of effort was equivalent to just merely typed a single word on the keyboard or moving a mouse an inch for a lot of great things being procured. Or better yet, it's like turning on an instant machine, with a simple imagination and it was born like magic. Took only few seconds to create things that could somehow be enjoyed for a lot of time.

    Yes, that just summed up about how lazy I was. It'd be nice if everything was very instant, but even with a lot of things not instant, there's just something that made it still worth doing. For example, all of the joy of going through things slowly, one step at a time, pouring love onto it and enjoying yourself. Being instant means, all of these enjoyment would be taken away. It wouldn't even look like you've worked on it on the slightest bit.

    So I guess, if one were aiming for results alone, they could just resort to instant stuff. All the work going thus far, were merely for enjoyment while going through it--not the end result that matters but the journey. Well, that's the case if one had the powers and still wanted to go the long way. It'd be nice if life had such means.

    I guess there were. A lot of tutorials and learning to make things faster and easier, from people who spent so many hours trying to formulate a way in which things could go smoothly for others. When you truly put your mind on something you like, I think sooner or later, you could master it to some extent. Some other things may appear complicated at the first glance, but when you went through it, everything became simple enough for you to grasp in its entirety.

    Even after all of these pondering, I was still goddamn lazy. I didn't really want to do anything, not at all. Not even writing this.

    How did I managed to write this in the first place? That, I would never know for sure.

    I guess it's easy enough to make yourself feel good. Instead of aiming to get better, you can just degrade all the things that is making you feel bad. No matter how great others are, everything can be considered as a flaw, and with that thing in mind, you also can hide your complex when it comes to the things you've worked on. At least compared to having to learn all the same things and going through the same hell, to be as good as that other person you undermined.

    Not everyone has similar amount of talents and expertise. However, some of us would like everything to be same and equal, or else they will pick up those that are different—usually much better than them. They were afraid that talented person will damage their self-esteem, so they began to view them in negative light—as if that other person wasn't talented at all. The ideal world of them, maybe, was for everyone to be equally talented and achieve a lot of great things in their own way. No one would be greater than any other.

    Whether you worked hard or worked lazily—it's just your own way of doing things. No one has to dictate you have to worked your hardest to succeed. No such rules to define what is the absolute truth. Everyone's a god of their own—a god of their own lives. I guess, it appears so when we look at reality as a whole. Even if we didn't have similar amount of talents or determination—all of us were good in some ways. Though, not all people could see it or even appreciate it. Not all things could be appreciated.

    There were always some things that other people rated so highly, that I couldn't even understand what it was about. What I had seen was a loud of bullshit gibberish. Some of them, I could understand it could be great—just not my cup of tea. Others were like, I couldn't even begin to understand what makes this so great. Maybe I was just different—I was in the minority. Was the world unfair because of that?

    For me, yes. For them, definitely fair.

    I think of one of the most unfair things in this world. Your success is solely decided by how you can attract people. No matter how good or talented you are, the only thing that matters is your ability to attract others—the right kind of people. Loners have no chance to make it big. They were forced to be social, even though they didn't want to. Even if they ended up successful, they're mostly being used by those who had the power of people, which in turn would gain many fold of what they did on their own.

    I don't necessarily hate people. It's just, very hard for me to accept on how little the things I can do without others. Even the food I eat, the clothes I wear, electricity, all the fun I spent in social media, online games, even single-player games made through lots of love and dedication. A lot of countless things that defined my life, were made by others. Even this idea, all of this idea was inspired by someone else.

    That was the moment, I realize there's probably no individuality within me. I was just a sheep that followed others wherever they go. The more i denied it, the more I actually fell so far in, very near the point of no turning back.

    Survival of the fittest. Your survival solely determined by your ability to adapt and conform. Forcing you to do things you don't want just to live. Forcing you to struggle on a lot of things, some of which completely degraded you as a human being. Another harsh truth I couldn't accept.

    Though, did I really attracted no one at all? Did I really have no hope at all? How did I even managed to live so long with me being this way? I never adapted to anything, I never actually tried to make myself any better in something. Most of all, I didn't care—I don't give a shit about a cruel reality in front of me. I just wished to live in my own world, a little world filled with delusions.

    Others may have great talents to do what they can. As for me, the greatest things I have, is my hope and my delusions. I believe that everyone can become god and live in their own world, able to do virtually anything they imagine. The big question is : how and when will this occur in reality?

    I only know to gain those powers by discovering more and more about myself. Even if it means completely isolating myself from many others because I couldn't conform to any other ideals. I thrown away all of the other endeavors that might made me succeed in the real world, just for discovering this. Yet, the more I yearned for it, the more I realized, how I was, fundamentally, a mere human.

    A weak human, not a god. I could bleed, I could feel pain and sense of disorient. There's not much things I could do, no such great things I procure. Yet all of the things I thought up; the many things I dreamed; a lot of stuff I hope, more often than not, made me imagine myself as something much more than a human being.

    That I deserved something a lot better than being in this shithole. I hated working though--even if I could spend my entire day just thinking about a hell lot of possibilities that would happen if I possessed some unrealistic powers.

    Yeah, come to think of it, even with me as I was, there's a shit load of things I could do. I also had done quite truck pile of shit in all these years, it gave me headache to think about it. A lot of these things and I was still a nobody. A lot of things I could do with these limited amount of powers, very limited even, and I didn't do it, since I was very lazy.

    If only it took a mere flick of seconds instead of hours, and the amount of effort was equivalent to just merely typed a single word on the keyboard or moving a mouse an inch for a lot of great things being procured. Or better yet, it's like turning on an instant machine, with a simple imagination and it was born like magic. Took only few seconds to create things that could somehow be enjoyed for a lot of time.

    Yes, that just summed up about how lazy I was. It'd be nice if everything was very instant, but even with a lot of things not instant, there's just something that made it still worth doing. For example, all of the joy of going through things slowly, one step at a time, pouring love onto it and enjoying yourself. Being instant means, all of these enjoyment would be taken away. It wouldn't even look like you've worked on it on the slightest bit.

    So I guess, if one were aiming for results alone, they could just resort to instant stuff. All the work going thus far, were merely for enjoyment while going through it--not the end result that matters but the journey. Well, that's the case if one had the powers and still wanted to go the long way. It'd be nice if life had such means.

    I guess there were. A lot of tutorials and learning to make things faster and easier, from people who spent so many hours trying to formulate a way in which things could go smoothly for others. When you truly put your mind on something you like, I think sooner or later, you could master it to some extent. Some other things may appear complicated at the first glance, but when you went through it, everything became simple enough for you to grasp in its entirety.

    Even after all of these pondering, I was still goddamn lazy. I didn't really want to do anything, not at all. Not even writing this.

    How did I managed to write this in the first place? That, I would never know for sure.

    At the very least, I just wanted to express something I had in mind. Things that been burdening me lately. Not saying these burden would be gone by writing it but it might clear things out. That's one thing I learned thus far.
     
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    Landscape 3-4 : Endgame

    I forgot who was I again. The only thing I remember—I was just someone who writes. Not really something good, just random writing. I was mostly a loner, but I enjoy private company from time to time. I wasn't good at maintaining close relationships, since I prefer being alone in most occasions. I don't have talents that make me particularly stand out, but a lot of people thinks of me as weird because of things I wrote. I was also lazy and couldn't get myself to do anything I should do.

    Just a lazy loner who writes something weird—in short. I have lots of dreams, but not all that motivated to achieve them. One of them, was to live in a luxurious condo before my 30s. As for how, I don't know. I was too lazy to even do something as schoolwork, how did you expect me to earn money by working in the first place. Well, working on things I love might make a difference—it probably could make me start being diligent.

    Yeah, I love writing. Not sure if writing something weird would make enough money for me to buy a luxury condo before my 30s. I also wanted a vacation house in the Bahamas. I wanted to own a castle in England. Better yet, I wanted to own the entire Antarctica and made a bustling residential district very populous similar ot Australia. Let it be the center resort, training facilities for ice-based sports, with research facilities scurried throughout. I wanted to colonize the Moon, just like those in Pluto Nash movies.

    I wanted to see how the edge of galaxy looks like from up close and finally get into the insides of a black hole, finally living to tell the tale. These dreams got even more ridiculous the further I wrote in. I knew one thing for sure: all of these were possible to fantasize and imagine about in detail through writing. Being able to make it a reality, was one thing though. That again, my daily shenanigans wasn't actually hell-bent on achieving things in reality. It was more about making what was very unlikely to come to life, be true as the grain of sand in your face the last time you went to beach.

    I never went to the beach. I can't even swim either.

    A lot of things could be achieved through writing. Though, as vivid it seemed to be, it would prove nothing at all. It would be something meaningless if I did that for the sake of it. What made me truly grateful when I wrote, was because I wrote it as if I was telling something to a good friend of mine. Probably even enough to call it a best friend. Telling it to someone who will listen to my nonsensical ramblings in detail. I said something because there was someone who will listen, if there's no one to listen, that's where writing came in.

    Everyone would be busy in their daily lives to make time for someone like me, a complete stranger. A lot more important things took priority over listening to the ramblings of certain someone, who had no relevance in the slightest to them.

    Even so, I guess I wrote because I had something to say and there's someone who would listen to them. Without someone who listened, I wouldn't have anything to write. Funny how it was all written word but I used the context of 'listening'. It should be 'read'. Though in my case, I don't have positive thoughts regarding the context of reading. I mostly viewed it as an obligation, a boring obligation. Whilst listening, I've got to communicate with them on the personal level to tell them the things I had in mind.

    That's how it goes.

    It's not as if I was a popular person with lots of readers. I just dedicate it to a certain someone who would listen to its messages, be it real or imaginary. That's all. I was just a lazy loner who writes something weird. Yet, I wasn't really as lazy when I wrote something weird. I felt lazy because it wasn't what I wanted to do, I guess. I was lazy since I was surrounded with a lot of things I don't wanna do, but obligations and stuff forced me to do it, and even now, I still struggled to even take the first step because reasons.

    If I was surrounded only by the things I wanted to do, I guess I wouldn't be a lazy person anymore—just a loner who writes something weird. Why was I a loner? Why did I prefer spending my time on my own over the company of others? I guess I was afraid of being hurt by differences. I was afraid of being forced to become someone I don't want to. I was especially fearful of giving my time for things that would be unpleasant to me, just for the sake of others.

    It might be unrealistic to say, but I think, if only I had someone who would match me perfectly and make my entire time together be exceedingly phenomenal, and it would continue on for all eternity, I probably wouldn't be a loner anymore. I would always together with someone I deem precious.

    If things could be said and expressed right away, there would be no need to write things. There's just so much that could be conveyed through writing. What about through words, through body languages, touch and even a lot things more intimate than that?

    What about weird things? It was weird since it was different than what most others think. If those around me accepted it as it were, it would cease on being weird.

    After all of these be done, who I would be? Who am I again?

    The lazy loner who writes something weird, is no more.

    I guess, after all of that is settled. No need to define who I am anymore. Since all of these previous definitions is actually defining all the things that I lacked, rather than the things I actually do.

    ...and I do things that way because I was lacking in a lot of things, in order to compensate for it. When I was sufficient in everything, what will I do otherwise?

    I will never know, not until that time comes, of course.
     
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    Landscape 3-5 : Steps

    I don't know if I have enough dedication to go through this shit. There are so many things to follow up in this world, and I supposedly had quite some bits of time to kill. I have no job or any kind of things I'm hell-bent of doing, yet so many things I deem not worth my time. I'm searching for things meant for me, why it's so hard to find it?

    I have a lot of things to do in mind; a lot of things to create, even. Yet, this hand only will move for a minuscule array of activities. It is hard to say, what exactly will make me act quickly without hesitation. I always pondered too much before acting, more often than not ended up not taking action. I wonder why is that.

    A passion to do things differently lies in my mind, yet at times I was the one most resistant to change. I wish to better myself in one way or another, yet a lot more things inside me cried out, not wanting to move forward a slightest bit. So slow it was. A lot of months have passed, yet I'm still here accomplishing nothing. Yeah, except for this text you're seeing.

    Uncertainty was all around. I wonder what was the right thing to do. Did I do the right thing? I would never know for sure until the future comes. Yet, it might be too late to act when the certainty comes.

    I guess the key is to act within uncertainty. Though, I felt unease, walking like a blind man like this. I don't know whether my fruits of labor will be accepted this way. Before I even started, I pondered too much about what I should do if I failed. I don't want to do things just to be rejected, and I do not trust ambiguous possibilities. If I wasn't certain if it'd be accepted, i wouldn't waste my efforts on it.

    There was a time before, which I wasn't sure for. I fought for it, and I wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do. Yet I was accepted. Maybe since I braved myself to push forward blindly.

    Let's try this out again. Knowing that I have succeeded in the past.

    I knew it's fundamentally different and a lot more complicated, but when I see it's basically the same thing—maybe I can try to risk it once more.
     
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    Landscape 3-6 : An Electric Voodoo Thing

    My uncle won a lottery ticket.

    It's just a ticket, that's all.
     
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    anyway, untuk sementara waktu gw bakal istirahatin ini dolo. mungkin paling lambat muncul lagi taon depan.
     
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    Landscape 3-7 : Crawl

    You know you'd always be on my mind. Whether I'm down; whether I get up. A bit of naughtiness each day would help me in distress. You wished to work; I wished to have fun. Each day I couldn't stand a feasible point of drudgery. I loved the day back then during childhood, only without the chores. If I were to go back in time, nothing will change though. It may get worse as long as I was there as an influence.

    I heard birds won't get electrocuted as they perched atop electric lines. I forgot if there was any birds around. Hardly seen them all beside urban areas. Even if skies so blue amidst the pollution, the only thing in my head were skyscrapers. Some of them rose as tall as small, rolling hills without the green. Such tall buildings made of steel and concrete. I lived in one such building, even if there were neighbors around, we decided to just meddle with our lives alone.

    Nothing was far ahead; nothing up close. Every single thing floated up in the middle of nowhere, making me lost. I spent a lot of time standing like a moron inside a convenience store. Nobody paid attention to me as I stared blankly to the spaces above me, though the only thing I stared about was my own thoughts.

    What am I doing with my life? What kind of things do I want? Questions rummaged around even though I already knew the answer, somewhat. As if all these contemplation wanted to reaffirm how strong have I clung upon things I believe in. I just wanted to have fun, lots of fun. Yet, these words remained dry as sand.

    I found myself floating in the oceans of people, mainly as something inert. Times had changed people; I remained mostly the same. Yet, as for now, I still hated the very fact that I had to work soon. I believe, working is the furthest away you can go from having fun. So I kinda thought about killing myself after I finally graduate.

    Just a bit of painless death, accepting my fate and awaited for it to come. I had given my choice on where I want to go, so all that's left is just waiting. I believe, I'm very patient and will always be patient, as long as I get to have lots of fun along the way. As long the little child in me lives, my soul will always flourish until the end of me has come. I will forget about everything; I will throw away my responsibilities to the sea. What I think about lies within me, not in front of me or behind me.

    For the people I shall left behind, do not worry, it's not my fault. It just somehow happened. I just waited for it, and I didn't do anything special besides being honest about my feelings. This is not a suicide. It's because of a natural cause. That happens when my time is up. Maybe a day later or even a hundred years later. Not sure if my resolve will still be the same as the centuries changed, but I do not wish to change who I really am.

    I stared at the face of death once again. For the most of time, it ignores me since I do not seem to fear it at the moment. What I fear is the pain. Though, when push comes to shove, I do not mind anything that is thrown at me. For all of them are beyond my control. I wish to focus on things I could control instead. I want to believe I have powers to decide what will go beyond me, but since I'm too lazy, let's just say, all I wanted out there was tons of money to last me a lifetime. I also hate annoying people and regulations, so let's just get them out.

    Can I just write anything aside from something like this? Well, it's not easy to say. Each one of them, in more ways or one, described and expressed peculiar thoughts of mine. I just prefer it this way. Maybe some other way if I was in the mood. More or less, it's kinda fun, so let it stay this way.

    There was a last time I ate a fish, only without the bones. Another time was a chicken, also without bones. Without all of the hassles to finally enjoy what I paid for, it's a much better option to live my life.

    If I had one more thing to pray for this moment, I just want to say thanks, and have fun.
     
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    Landscape 3-8 : Asterisk and Obelisk

    What would you do, if you found out, you've been granted a wish you've been yearning all this time?

    No matter how ridiculous the wish were.

    You got to keep it, under no conditions or special circumstances.

    You are free to squander it as much as you want.

    Some of us might be really happy.

    Some of us might be really sad, since they think they should wish for stuff much greater.

    A few of us were already happy with what we had, with or without the wish fulfillment.

    In any case, do not worry if you take so long to rise after you fall. The world itself need two seasons for it to get back to spring again. Time will heal all your doubts and prepare yourself to move forward.

    No matter what, you are strong enough to move on, that's why you're still alive and breathing.

    You can walk alone or you can walk with others. There's a lot of difference.

    I myself just passed by people who supported me along the way, but I walked my own path, because I want others to find their own without being disturbed with my ideals, that more or less they won't find pleasant.

    I want them to live in their own world of paradise, governed by their own ideals, not mine. Having their time to themselves and doing the work they like. Having families that will love them and raising children that will look up to them. Their legacy shall live up strong for the rest of their lives and as they left their world, it will grow even stronger due to fruit of their own passion.

    As for me, I'm just glad that I had been given the opportunity to be happy for this moment. I don't know how long will it last, but as long it's there, I want to cherish it as much as possible.

    Xxx

    The messages echoed in the wind, signaling me to respond. I do not know exactly what they are saying, but I know the things I wanna hear. I know a lot of them didn't actually pay attention when I speak my mind, but I believe in the ones who paid attention to each of my words. The ones that can measure my potential even better than I do.

    I myself do not know how far I can take myself towards the top. At least I believe in a place I should belong. A place where I can be free to grab hold of things I desired. As I placed those treasures in my palm, I hold it close to my heart. Feel it beating, pulsating tightly and warmth spreads all across my skin. Invigorating it was, as if the sensation of being alive echoed from deepest parts of my veins.

    There are times things may go up and go down, but I believe that fate won't forever always be a wheel. As in wheels, the time where one point goes up and down is somewhat equal, but the life of a human being, some have a lot more fortunate times and some others spent most of their time riddled with misfortune. Those who went up doesn't always have to go down. Those who went down, doesn't mean they will always get up.

    I wonder why some people likes the wheel of fate as their meaning of life. I guess it sparks something profound and meaningful, in a simple way most of us can understand. As for me, I do not like wheels that much, I mostly walked on my two feet. Even if I didn't travel much that way, my feet will take me wherever I want to go, albeit covering only short distances.

    I go with my own two feet and carved things with my two hands. I can't do it much but at least I worked my best on little things I can do. That's how I freed myself from all the shackles around me. Freed myself from things I know I couldn't control, because I doesn't really matter in my life at all. The only things that matter in my life, is the thing within my own power.

    That power, is the precursor for me to make my own choices. Basically, the choices consist of doing it or not, but it could be anything my mind can take me and I can bring myself to conceive it through concrete means. If it wasn't possible now, it will definitely be possible some time later. I may never know when, but that hope is enough to give me joy to better my life.

    What kind of things I want to better my life in?

    For the first start, I wish I drank water a lot more and read good books a bit more.

    That's all.
     
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    Landscape 3-9 : Scope

    Don't try this at home.

    Though you're free to do it in someone else's home.
     
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    Landscape 3-10 : Axis

    Not every day was a best day for being inspired, but who knows, if we did something out of our usual, it might be the cue for a new breakthrough.

    So let's begin.

    Xxx​

    Once upon a time, a farmer had two children. When he died, it was already 1000 years later. When he was born, the earth was still populated by dinosaurs. When he was married, he actually had twelve children. What is the farmer's actual age?

    End of Landscape 3​
     
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