It was fifteen borrowed years of his life, obviously showing on for days. A taste of bullet might have been better and worst not one can take the pain of murdering some that you hold dear, isnt it. 

But it is a prolonged pain actually. Hopeless, he watched him slowly losing his breath but his nose is trying to remember his scent. The eyes barely opening but if did always finding his perhaps just his silhouette.

"Mardy.." he uttered so sadly.

He saw it stare at him blankly but failed to make a sound. He waited, almost crying, shrug its shoulder hoping it will move an inch. It didn’t. His eyes is bursting but he managed to hold.

"Mardy.." 

'til he can no longer contain it. Mardy chose to see him while breathing his last than to shut it getting ready for the final rest. The dog tried to figure out the light of his face through the shadow it was seeing with its old eyes. He hoped it seen him, he hoped it stay a little while and bark weakly one last time. This he might remember, but this hairy lifeless Mardy.

It is a land of sweet reality and kindness. For when you are there, love for people stands higher than love for a person. Passion pays more respect than money on skills’s fee. Altruism is even greater than patriotism.

But this is not a promise land, this is not Eden as what you may think. This is Gaartha.

Sickness

A change in mood, a life taste like a piece of cake you havent taste before, lone feeling, wants to rain outside, the gray clouds, the memories of friends occurring. 

I am just sick.

This day I just want be on my own and sort of.

People are like trees and bees in the background that I will pass by and ignore this moment. Give this peace to mine. Please. A peace of mind.

Art on Walls

They said, once an artist will always be an artist. It will just then varies according to their preferred mediums.

However, in the Art on Walls, there is one media to use, imagination.

See this ordinary wall, a little rough, a little plastering, slightly dirty, moisty and most importantly blank.

Then tell me, what image had you seen? Perhaps there are two or more images slowly revealing itself to you.

It is quite fun once we learned that in this blank wall, a lot of imaginations can be created. Just like in a plain sheet of paper, or canvas, or anything we preferred to use to lay our arts into, the art of any form that you will create is always depends on you.

I might be the artist of this wall, but you as well.

Now tell me, what do you see?

Kiosk the Mansion

A normal night after a long drive. Exhausted as usual, feeling a little dizzy.

"I guess I’m not good at traveling that long anymore." told her boyfriend.

She sip a cup of hot chocolate to ease the weirdness going on inside her stomach. She fell asleep.

There he met someone she have not met before. A cliche setting actually. Ten they went to a place she is quite familiar and not at the same time. That feeling when you know the place and yet when you tried to familiarize yourself, the place seems to disguise itself displaying odd elements that’ll trick your mind. They were running on the sidewalk, the reason is still unknown, but they are in need to hide. 

The man pointed out this tiny kiosk, looks abandoned and filthy. Some ripped out posters, tainted paints, ledge-counter, concrete floor, elevated at least two hundred millimeters, some wooden shutters painted off-white. He dare to look in between the shutters, then he lift the left side of the ledge-counter. Who would suspect that it has hinged in there, and who would say it is a hidden door. He extend his feet on the other side of the drop, he bend ninety degrees so he could pass through the hinged-pull-up-door. He succeeded while I doubt to hop into it. But then, I do not have other choice or else they will find me, whoever are these ominous one. I bent a little, step on the other side, and lower my head.

"Oh, hello" a voice had said.

"This guy, he is familiar, but where have I met him?"

He is with someone, a girl, but I am not sure. I look around. The room was alright. Low ceiling painted in white, sofa in fabric, modern in style i can guarantee, an entertainment table lying back at the wall which have the traces of old bricks painted in white, the floor is gray matte finished flag-stone semblance only perfectly rectangular in shape. 

The man, the owner maybe, invite us to go in much further. And that is where the lights are coming from. My comrade who are currently enjoying his seat stand up and follow this man. I am the last to go through the opening. I looked at the floor first before I step on it. The next floor is around five hundred millimeter dropped. The floor is vinyl-tile finish semblance of yellow-stained wood with grains. The spacing of the tile is impossible to see, a good craft and work for the worker. I have notice the five hundred millimeters soccalo before the four hundred by four hundred millimeter awning window, tempered glass in aluminum framing in white. The height of floor to ceiling is around six meters. the whole wall is made of awning windows less the soccalo. Some are open, but either way, even the close one still admits natural light from the sun. 

"A modern house, slightly applying the principle of Le Corbusier in the design.

"…let the floors of different areas of the house be elevated to minimize the use of partition walls hence maximizing the natural ventilation and air within the room."

A feeling of enchantment. 

"I like what I am seeing. I want to built a house same as this!"

From the top of the ceiling, I move my eyes to the adjacent loft. Steel trusses are visible painted with gray for camouflaging. I step on top of the side table, I am not sure what that is, to see what is under the loft. It was a bed, king size, it looks so soft and fluffy, very inviting to sleep with. The blanket wrinkled on both side. The cushion almost touch the floor for its softness, the legs of the bed is wood-finish, round in shape, glimmering. Oh there are two pillows, still in white color, on top of the bed, creased. The floor is of wood finish, not synthetic, creamy-brown with grains and varnished. The loft have metal railings painted in black or maybe gray. But I wonder where the stairs will be.

"How can I get up there?"

"Through the stairs."

The owner, the man, pointed out at the far left of my eye. 

"But there’s no stairs in there?"

I looked at where he pointed. There affixed the stair that seems to just popped out. 

"It wasn’t there when I looked!"

"But it is in there since it was first built."

"Alright."

My focus is solely on the stair. Where will it lead then? It is far from the location of the loft, and I am not sure how it will lead into it. I haven’t checked nor I cant remember the looks of the ground floor but what amazed me the most is the placement of loft and the succeeding elevated floors on the left/second floor. I am so pleased.

"I wanted to built one like this!"

The reason why the receiving area had a low ceiling is to allow the loft areas to have the opposite and to maximize the whole of natural lighting and air spaces. It were all naturally-looking and contemporary. I like how it is built. 

A lady attempt to go upstairs, I cannot remember her face but she might have been looking for someone. The stairs is made of steel with tubular railings. The steps of the stair are floating for the other ends are neatly attached to the wall. The landing before the first step is elevated and polished white-tile finish. I noticed the beam painted white supporting the loft. I followed the lady, I have not notice the other woman upstairs, she’s a little loud asking the man, whom I assumed as the owner, where is this someone in particular. I never clearly heard her name, but she looks upset about her absence. 

A sudden fear blooms in the room, we are worried if those who’s hunting us were able to located where we at. The man I am with dare to take a look between the shutters if there is any outside. He only sees moving shadows but is not sure if they were them. 

Me on the other hand does not feel any threat. I still look around and study the Architecture of the house. On the upper left corner of the loft is a door painted in white ducco finish. I can clearly see its elevation from the rest of the areas in the loft. The mad woman used for leaving. 

Everything happens so fast and I cannot remember it all. I realize that I am at the balcony trying my luck to find our stalkers and at the same time wishing not to get caught. 

My companions slightly panicked, one of them saw the stalkers and they seem to know that he did. Before I knew it, there are these men outside of the believed-kiosk banging the shutters forcing it to open. I felt a slight fear and worry because there are no other place to go. 

Then I woke up. Just like that.

I have these realizations that what if the companions that I have that time want me to be safe so they allow me to wake up. A day will pass and when it is my time to sleep, I can start with a new place and if luck favors me then I will have the chance to be with them again.

What if dreams are stories of your adventure to other world. Its just that it is believed to be unreal because everyone rules the world they are at the dream.