The Metaphysicist (Kill Your Darlings) | Featured
  • Reads 72,424
  • Votes 3,282
  • Parts 46
  • Time 6h 51m
  • Reads 72,424
  • Votes 3,282
  • Parts 46
  • Time 6h 51m
Complete, First published Apr 25, 2016
My astonishment orchestrates a gasp in my lungs, glues a hand to my mouth as I stare surprised at the mess on the bedroom floor who still hasn't recovered, and through this all I can only shape one sentence that sums everything up pretty well, a sentence that pains me to say. "You're sick, Lucien."
All my companion does is install a narrow tunnel into his eyes, a conviction like no other. "Isn't every writer?"

All Allen Ginsberg needs is a library book on rhyme and meter, things he absolutely abhors for being so ever present yet things he requires for his blog article. What he finds is rather a young librarian and writer by the name of Lucien Carr, choking on cigarettes and booze and the glamorous life of deterioration -- and just like his writing, it's quite magnificent.

~~Wattpad Featured Book 19 September, 2016~~
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Echo of the Past by KiyuMiyuu
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A few months ago, I bought a mug with gold gilt. On sale. Not a gift either nor because of an occasion to remember by it. Just plain, pretty mug for 15PLN. I drank my coffee from it since. I spat loose tea leaves into it. It never felt particularly significant. An ordinary object. Only when I lost it, I realised its true value. I sat comfortably at my desk one evening. Looking at my phone, I reached to take my song-text notebook. Trivial situation. My clumsy fingers were unable to avoid the mug. They allowed it to topple over, to slip from the desktop. Even though I did not see the split-second occurrence, I felt the pressure of unease. My head painted the trajectory of the fall on its own, the shattering, spillage. The loss. For a millisecond I still had hope, that I would be able to catch the mug, that I would be able to avoid what was about to happen. But I knew I was headed for failure. I don't have any superpowers. I only scalded my fingers. I looked at the mug's new shape for a long while, at the shattered pieces. At the spilling liquid. Our adventure came to an end. Irrevocably. I won't be drinking coffee from it anymore, nor spit tea leaves into it. Well. I shouldn't be sad, it was just a regular mug, just like thousands of others. I grew to like it, it kept me company throughout hundreds of warm drinks. I lost it. I hate this feeling the most. In the moment when I am losing something, I stop in my tracks, I hold my breath. It is always a very intense moment. A short one, but one that gives me the tight unpleasant feeling in my stomach. The feeling of loss is always accompanied by hope. Silly and naïve. Making me believe so strongly, that I can make it. That I will still be able to catch the mug mid-flight. When the feeling is entering the body, crawling into me I realise, how important it was to me. Whether it's Nivan or a stupid mug with gold gilt.
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After fainting in elementary school, Noah Roman was forever banned from human contact. Still able to attend school, though he has to wear a mask, gloves, and not show a single part of his body, Noah was perfectly fine with it. Living with content Noah never cared about how others thought nor he would never experience a true relationship. Casted outside of the world, Noah grew fond of his illness, but like seasons, it changed. Moving away from his home state to California, Dominic Storm wasn't exactly fond of the new place. Researching cases of Mysophobia, Dominic begins to care less and less about his schooling and life. Without knowing, Dominic invades Noah's safety bubble, stirring up trouble for Noah and himself. Avoiding, pushing and hiding couldn't separate these two no matter how hard either tried. Does Noah finally see the pain of no longer having the ability to touch? And why does Dominic care so much for Mysophobia?