先前东洋 @[email protected]

Once again, the mortal summoned his God of the Light.
‘What is your wish for this time?’ The God of the Light elbowed out of the crevices of the glaze pieces and then only a flash later was already lounging slumped in the armchair.
‘I would like the ability to create artwork.’ The mortal gazed down at the God of the Light, well used to its lethargy, ‘I want to paint on canvas however I like.’
‘You can paint as you wish even now.’ The God of the Light chuckled and lifted a hand about to conjure up a canvas and the instruments for painting-
‘But that’s not what I want.’ The mortal frowned, ‘I’m terrible at painting. And I hope I can become good at it.’
‘You could get better with some practice,’ the God of the Light hooked a finger, whereupon the mortal took a few steps closer in, seeing the dark hair cascading down the God’s face, the pale greying skin of the holy being, and the amusement that filled the eyes that were deep as the abyss, ‘Would you like to be suddenly gifted with the results that others have practised so much before finally achieved? You appear to have become a little insatiable, dear master. Still, it might not turn out to be a detriment.’
‘Fret not, my dear,’ said the God of the Light, as a hand touched the mortal’s face, warmth radiating from the palm to the skin, ‘I shall satisfy your desire, regardless.”

圆珠笔低阻尼的坏处就是本就很容易放飞自我写字的哥们字体更加。。。但好处是手速可以跟上脑子。。。

我搭档人呢

一边搞船一边嫉妒为什么他有老婆做饭送饭带孩子赚钱养家，一边偷偷想要是真有这么一个人首先对方不能是男的因为很明显我不是gay所以男的达咩。。。

In the silence, I stared at him, the solo performer on stage, who was singing a slow, sad song, completely forgetting where I was at the moment. Not knowing we were standing downstage, watching the performance, I ignored the crowd that separated me from him, but was instead alone, face to face with him, hearing him sing just for me. Yet, it was more than that. He seemed more like he was whispering softly to someone who only existed in the nothingness that I could see. By the time the guitarist of the accompanying band played the last note of the song with the plectrum, his melancholic violet eyes caught all my sight, including the corner of my eyes. Everything in my spirit centred on him. I stared at him so hard that I felt my eyes could penetrate his soul, which I was unwilling to read on my ability for inner information. In return, he was gazing at me with full attention, eyes appearing to be filled with tears. A myriad of emotions that welled up inside my heart was as chaotic as delicate nerves twisting around the same needle. Wherefore art thou grieving thus, for as though hast tasted ten thousand years alone. I wondered. There were a thousand stories he read from my eyes. It was the past and the future where we could have met and occurred in the infinite parallel universes.