I didn't draw for a long time but felt the missing puzzle piece in me. Couldn't quite figure out what made me feel that way, but I learned to tell a story by writing poems, which I slowly fell in love with. One day, without any particular reason, I took my friend's colorful pens and started drawing in the notebook that was originally for writing poems, but this notebook had no rules. It was filled with magazine cutouts, writings, a random green string that I found fascinating, I'm not sure why, and a lot more. But the point is that I discovered my love for drawing once more, which was like the pleasure of seeing a child you've known for a long time be born again. Now you can pay more attention to those first words and remember that taking a lot of photos is important. All this applies to drawing too, so now I can pay more attention to my new chapter of drawing.
I have two different styles now, the old one and the new one. The old one was similar to Yoshitomo Nara's way of drawing, with big eyes, tiny noses and a little mouths. Now it's a little closer to reality, it's more of a mix, which I like. The majority of my drawings have a hint of realistic attributes of love, both simple hurtful details and pleasant ones as well.
He was covered in scars. The hurtful impact of love had made its way to his delicate skin. His heart was full of different emotions that led to the spreading of the virus, and the pain that he had hidden for such a long time was now transparent.
"The heart is one of the hardest jobs," said the doctor with a steady voice but a worried face.
When the surgeon cut through to expose the hurtful heart, he saw what he already new. The blood was no longer traveling through, it was stopped because of all the confusion love had made the body feel. But there was a glimpse of happiness in there somewhere, and that glimpse would help the heart beat properly. The doctor had to give him pills that would make him feel the illusion that the happiness was much bigger then it was in reality. There was no other way but to lie to the heart.
The doctor kissed the boy's forehead and said he was sorry for lying to his heart, that was the only way.
"The boy didn't come across the love he deserved," the doctor yelled out loud.