my last entrythis day pains a man. whereby he have lost something,a something that not even time could give it back.once every millenia, such angels appear.and in this time, they only be there once.if a person try to seek it, it takes everything they have to find it,but alas, if he lost that which he seek, it cripples him.in a world as this, it always happens.now i lost my only angel, my inspiration, and my light.now, i'm back on the darkness from which i escape upon,into the cave i originally camed from,now my light has vanished, plunged me back to my darkness.even the heavens is now laughing at meupon this day.the only small wi
What I think of ArtArt is something formed by history on the background of eternity. It may appears as something impersonal but the personal is an image of eternity, mirrored in eternity. Any art has a background and that does not have a background, cannot be called art. If we imagine the background of eternity as space, two-dimensional and a three-dimensional background can be distinguish from each other, the former, a formless one, and the latter as a formed one. (Taken from my book on Goethe's Metaphysical background by Nishida Kitaro)
still unfinished story...Like water and oil...spoon and fork... It was another day, which was similar as the other days that had passed by. For Eri, this day is different unlike the others. She knows that this day would be something special, perhaps for her or her brother. On the other side of the town, the young Graf wakes up, checking the whole room which a cyclone had struck down, checks everything there. As he finds himself in situation where it always the same thing if his sister is not around. Did sister gone home early, I have no idea. As he wonders for a bit, would you look at that? he said with a scratch of the back of his