Summary: Bungaku Shoujo series centers around Konoha Inoue, one of two members of his high school’s literature club, which he joined shortly after entering school, though the story begins when Konoha is already in his second year. The other member and president of the club is Tohko Amano, a third-year girl who loves literature. Tohko eats stories by consuming the paper they are printed on, and Tohko often asks Konoha to write her short stories as “snacks”.

“Why are you eating the parts that I balled up and threw away?”

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Summary: Amélie is a young language teacher living in Tokyo. When she succumbs to the attentions of her one and only student – the shy, wealthy, *may I also add “handsome”* and oh-so-Japanese Rinri – the lovers-to-be find themselves swept along by an affair that is as unusual as it is tender.

Why must pleasure always have a price? And why must one always pay for sensual delight with the loss of original lightness?

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Art Therapy

My 1st Art Therapy class

“Loneliness is dangerous. It’s addicting. Once you see how peaceful it is, you don’t wanna deal with people.”

My friends told me I got a Gothic style of drawing. 

Color Holocaust – My 2nd favorite

Last Saturday, I took this workshop called Art Therapy. After we listed out our personal problems, the instructor told us to ‘simply play with colors’. So I started to play with the colors, without any idea how the drawings would turn out like these. I was expecting to see some bright colors on a pastel background. But in the end, they all looked so Gothic, involuntarily.

Heart vs Brain – My 1st favorite

The instructor said “It’s not about creating the best drawing. But learning to love your own drawings is important”.

And so, I realize it’s not gothic or dark; it’s just disorganized, irrelevant and turbulent. Exactly like my mind. I felt like it was not my hand that drew these. It was my subconscious mind. Maybe it was not so bad after all.

Dear Essay,

Dear Essay,

Be my Cinderella. Dance with me through the night.
Don’t be lurking anywhere. I know you only appear when the Deadline approaches.
But he’s no good for you.
He only comes to destroy you. Rob you of your novelty. Mess up your grammar. And choke you with typos.

Dear Essay,

Be my Cinderella. Give me a hint.
Even the chance is slim, I will always be chasing after you.
I will follow whatever clues you leave me.
If finding you means wading into this mud of shitty Internet connection, then don’t worry. Coffee always keeps me company.

– Don’t worry. I haven’t lost my mind. Yet.

– Inspired by Sarah Kay’s “A love letter”