i love you write poems on different topics....
this book has a collection of my novels....
i am just a beginner in writing such poems but i love to write them 
i hope you would like it.

I didn't expect my poems to get such a high number of views.So thank to everyone who read my book and gave their love.
I started writing this book of poems one year ago but I was scared no one would like them so I did not do anything with them. When My friends told me they loved my poems it gave me confidence. I started writing book on how I felt everyday but then I decided to write poems on how others would feel. So I would put my mindset on how others would feel and the different emotions crossing their minds.
It could be losing a loved one or dealing with the current pandemic. It could be just the weather, holiday or depression.
It was rather easy to write poems on other felt because I would sometimes feel this emotion or see others feeling different emotions everyday so I would sorta study them and write a poem. I would ask a person about their day and write a poem based on the feelings I am getting from their story.
My family would sometimes say that I can take any story and literally make a poem that perfectly fits how they are feeling that day. 

Listening to songs also helped when I am writing my poems. The type of music I listen to affects the way my poems come out as well. If it was a sad song then the poem would come out sad like. If it happy music then it would be a poem based on happy emotions. If it was a poem about young love or unrequited love then that would be what my poem would be about. Everything and everyone around me has influenced how my poems have come to be.

Another way I write my poems as well, is when I watch TV series, k-dramas, c-dramas, j-dramas and movies. These let me get into the characters emotions and I write out their story into a poem. 

Once again, thank you so  much for giving me your love and support for my poem book and I hope you continue to read my book, as well as my other books. 
Thank you guys and also stay safe. With the many things we are going through hope you guys stay strong and stay safe.

Just wanted to share some of the poems I was writing. Hope y'all like them.

After he posted on Weibo, the surging voices that came to curse at Zhang Ye seemed to stop!

See me or not. There will I stay, no sorrow, nor joy. What a free and easy poem! What a big-hearted attitude! Many people heaved in a mouthful of air upon seeing this! With the entire poem appearing, it gave a feeling that it was detached from all material things! It made the reader of the poem full of positive energy!

What was a good poem?

This may be what a good poem was!

Zhang Ye's choice of this poem to hit back was undoubtedly very powerful!

With this, the other side weakened, whereas Zhang Ye's neither clinging, nor abandoning fans felt their spirits enriched. They all began to shout!

SpringWindBlows: "Haha! Teacher Zhang Ye has fought back! Everyone, quickly have a look!"

WillowBowl: "Another new piece of work! Wow! This poem has a lot of feelings!"

Macho557: "None of Teacher Zhang Ye's works can be faulted! Too awesome!"

There was a person who published a long evaluation, named LifeIsABallOfFire, "I never read modern poems. I have never liked things related to art, ever since I was young. However, Teacher Zhang Ye has made me completely fall in love with literature and art, like poems. I do not know if those people cursing at Teacher Zhang Ye behind their keyboards or those so-called professional authors have any eyes! All of you are at least authoritative literature authors in Beijing. One of you is even some association's Vice President, so don't make us look down on you, alright? Even a layman like me can see how good Teacher Zhang Ye's poems are. Yet you despise it? Just because he is young? Is age a reason? Is this the method that you use to belittle the works of others? Then aren't you stooping too low!?"

"The previous poster said it well! Supporting Teacher Zhang!"

"Forever supporting Teacher Zhang Ye! Bull**** experts! Ignore them!"

"Teacher Zhang Ye's poems are popular. Look at the number of forwards. Look at the comments. Look at the search hits of every poem of Teacher Zhang’s, as well as the clicks in any major discussion forum. The eyes of the masses are bright. The market has already made its judgment. I'm curious; why would some people be jealous of Teacher Zhang's results? Must they jump out and say some words to stomp on him? Using Teacher Zhang's words, why did you give up treatment?"

With Zhang Ye taking the lead, his fans also followed him to counterattack.

The Beijing poet, Big Thunder, also commented, "Do you know literature, or do we know literature? Just now, that love poem... Does anyone know what he is saying? Do you know? Don't pretend to know if you don't understand! Literature is literature! Art is art! They are not things used to fool others!"

ZhangYeNumber1Fan came out. Ever since the Weibo war of words, this hardcore fan of Zhang Ye would not hesitate to stand up whenever Zhang Ye faced troubles. He retorted, "Then can I ask Teacher Big Thunder above, ‘what is art?’ Do you not know? Well, is art something that depends on what you say? Then what are we commoners for? Then what's the point of us poetry lovers? Literary works are things only you can enjoy? What a joke! To be a poet at such a level? You aren't even a hundredth of Teacher Zhang Ye's level! A literary work is for the commoners to see it and for them to resonate with it. They would be moved; they would have feelings. That is why Teacher Zhang's poem is so popular. This is the literary judgment by us commoners!"

There were also capable people on Weibo.

For example, a person named HDUSOS09 said, "Let me first declare that I am neutral. I do not support either side. I've been reading all day and have seen Zhang Ye's poem. I may be lacking in knowledge, but let me correct Teacher Big Thunder's evaluation. I think it is quite biased. Love poem? I do not think it is a love poem. Although the poem's text has the word affection, and even the ending has the word love, that is just something literal. If you can properly understand this poem, you will discover that this is a poem that is full of compassion. How can a person write about romantic love with a compassionate heart? That's why my analysis is that Teacher Zhang Ye had written this poem to his fans. No, actually, it should be said that he wrote this poem to everyone in this world!"

"Please continue."

"A capable person has come; please continue your analysis."

"Waiting for the capable person to analyze this poem I couldn't understand!"

A lot of comments came in below. Many of them did not understand what Zhang Ye wanted to express, but nonetheless they felt that the poem was especially carefree!

HDUSOS09 continued, "It is my personal opinion, but I think that Teacher Zhang Ye wanted to express love to the common person. He knew his work would not be accepted by everyone. Whether they scold him or dislike him, he will not be affected. He only wants to use his works to move people, touch people, help people. Which is why whether they see or not see him, he is neither sad, nor happy. Whether they follow or unfollow him, he will not discard or depart from them. Being a normal person, Teacher Zhang Ye might not be able to reach this state. But as a poet, he needs to have such an attitude. Yeah, this is what I see. I might not be correct, but this poem is so memorable and worth rereading; every sentence feels like it can make people think and reflect upon on it for a long time!"

"Well said!"

"It's informative!"

"So that's what it means! Thank you for the expert dissection!"

HDUSOS09 replied, "It not really a dissection; the poem is really deep, so even I don't have the ability to analyze it. It is just my personal opinion. Nevertheless, the truth has been proven; who says Teacher Zhang Ye does not know how to write poems? Who says Teacher Zhang Ye's poems are not works of literature or art? Don't take others as fools! I am neither an author, nor poet, but I'm still considered a literary person. If i dare to say it today, just based on Teacher Zhang Ye's ‘See Me or Not’ poem, there should be a place for Teacher Zhang in the nation's literary circle! No one can deny the quality of his art!"

"I sincerely apologize. Listening to those dog s*** Beijing Writers’ Association's Vice President and a few vocal authors, I thought they were correct. It made me post and criticize Teacher Zhang Ye. I'm so godd*mn stupid; why did I believe them at all! What professionals? In the future, I won't listen to any professional opinions! I will trust in my own judgement! Teacher Zhang's poems must be good poems! They moved me so many times!"

"I apologize, too. I was really confused just now!"

"Yeah. Who still f***ing dares to say Teacher Zhang Ye doesn't know how to write poems?"

Zhang Ye's fans who left came back again and made a scene. Zhang Ye proved his worth and, at the same time, responded back at those unscrupulous people!

But there were still scoldings.

"Bull****!"

"He only knows how to put on an act!"

"That's right! You said it so amazingly! It was too exaggerated!"

"How come I didn't see anything good about the poem? You guys are just bragging about Zhang Ye! How much did he pay you all? A dollar for a comment? You guys are so supportive with the bragging!"

"The professionals have stated their case and yet you all are unhappy?"

ZhangYeNumber1Fan could not longer stand it, "Comrades, when logic no longer works, what do we do?"

ZhangYeNumber1Fan seemed to have a good reputation and network on the internet. When he appeared, lots of trolls would respond to his callings. They had responded earlier, but were overwhelmed by the fans of those poets and authors. There were too many of them and the trolls were unable to do much. Now was the time to fight back!

"If logic doesn't work, then there's nothing to talk about anymore!"

"Let's curse! Crash their Weibo!"

"When did our troll army ever need to use logic?"

"Hahaha. Logic was never our strong point!"

"All the discussion earlier... I did not understand one bit of it. Even the poem, I did not understand it. But so what! I just godd*mn support Teacher Zhang Ye!"

"Let's attack, bros!"

"Buy watches for all of them!"

"It's time for us to attack our enemies again!"

"My large saber is again again again unable to endure the thirst!"

"Quickly gather the forces; there's nothing better than fighting our foes together with Teacher Zhang!"

Zhang Ye's troll army once again embarked on a bloody battle with their enemies. This group of people with nothing to do, who could find fault with anything, were bloodthirsty. Nothing could stop them. To them, this was the joy of living.

The opponents' fans were awed by Zhang Ye's "See Me or Not". Some of them even quietly logged off. They knew that they were behaving vexatiously earlier. A person who could write such an awesome modern poem, how could he not know how to write poems? But many of them still supported the teachers of the literary circle. To them, Meng Dongguo and the others were the seniors, Big Thunder and the others were the real professionals on poems. Since they rejected Zhang Ye's literary upbringing, then they must be right!

Two sides cursed each other, but there was no clear outcome.

Close to 12 midnight, most people had logged off. After both sides came to a standstill, Zhang Ye's modified poems were scheduled for an appearance!

There was "The Song of the Stormy Petrel".

There was "Flying Bird and Fish".

There was also "A Generation".

Everyone was more than happy with Zhang Ye's modified poems. This was something started by Zhang Ye, because no other writer had ever modified their own works for arguing!

"Proposing to me, or not. There will I stay, no sorrow, nor joy..."

"Marry me, or not. There will your mom always stay, sometimes sorrow, sometimes joy..."

In the blink of an eye, Zhang Ye's "See Me or Not" Weibo message had been forwarded more than 2,000 times. There were more than 10,000 comments. Regardless of it being questioned, this poem had gone viral!

"Where's Teacher Zhang?"

"Our standards are limited. Wishing for Teacher Zhang's modifications!"

"Hahaha, that's right. Every time Teacher Zhang modifies his own poems, he does it so well!"

Seeing this, Zhang Ye heeded their summons and came forward. Again, he displayed his self-mocking spirit and posted a new Weibo message.

"Fan me, or not. There will I stay, no sorrow, nor joy."

"(Thread) Bumping me, or not. There will people stay, no coming, nor going."

"Reply me, or not. There will the thread stay, no increase, nor decrease;"

"See me, or not. There my poem stays in your Weibo, no discarding, nor departure;"

"Come to my Weibo, or let me go to your Weibo. Forwarding with serenity. Comment that's all!"

This was one of the modifications of "See Me or Not" in Zhang Ye's world. Zhang Ye felt that this was most appropriate to obtain fans, so he sent it out.

When everyone saw this, they were in stitches!

"I've already fan-ed!"

"Must fan!"

"Teacher Zhang is too cute!"

"I love you, Teacher Zhang!"

"So well-written! Hilarious!"

"Teacher Zhang can always spare no effort to publicize himself in the best method! And he doesn't even show a trace of that!"

"The critical thing is his magnanimity. Look at what sort of spirit Teacher Zhang has! He can make jokes and mingle with us. Look at all those Beijing literature bunch of so-called authors and poets. All of them are as if they are all so high and mighty!"

"That's right!"

"As expected of Teacher Zhang to be cute!"

"Teacher Zhang is the greatest poet in my heart!"


Zhang Ye was originally a mundane college graduate with aspiring dreams to become a star, but unfortunately has below average looks and height. However one day, he woke up and suddenly found himself in a parallel world! 
It’s like the same world, but wait a minute…many brands, celebrities and even famous works from his world changed and are gone in this new world! Armed with the profound literary knowledge of his previous world and a heaven-defying Game Ring that gives him magical items, stats and skills, Zhang Ye embarks on a journey to pursue his life-long dream of becoming famous!
Follow Zhang Ye as he takes the new world by storm, one plagiarized piece at a time, to hilarious reactions!

"Claire, what is happening?"
"Is he okay?"
"Gush, I don't know what to do."
"Claire, please let me in"

My mind is full of thoughts. I don't know what to say nor do. I kept asking Claire what is happening even though I can see it clearly. I begged her to let me in but she didn't let me. I kept crying over and over again that night. It's like half of me is dying. The clock is ticking but still Claire is in that room for like 30 minutes. I don't want to sleep because maybe just maybe when I wake up he's gone. So my feet brought me to his messy room. All the books are scattered everywhere. The papers are sticking on the wall and the pens inks are all over his bed. I decided to fix that mess while waiting for some news about him from Claire. I arrange the books on his table, pick up all the papers on the wall and floor. I also requested some new bed sheets for him. As I'm on my way putting the last book on his desk I saw a book entitled "ANFS" with a note written on it "On going story of my life" Out of curiosity I opened it. It is a draft of the book I requested last time. I really wanted to know what's inside of it. He said he didn't want to share his life with others and I'm just wondering why we wrote this draft. Liam is a great writer of fictional stories but I never read  true to life stories from him. He believes that happiness only exists in fictional stories and happy endings only exist in love stories he made. Liam is a realistic person he never believes in imagination nor dreams. I remember one time I asked him "Liam, what is your dream?" and he replied "I don't have any dreams. Leah, I'm stuck in this damn hospital for years and now you're asking me what is my dream? Do you think that a patient like me who's going to die anytime soon will have a dream? Leah, please be realistic."  and by that time I never asked him about life anymore. 
As I opened the book I saw a little note on the first page saying:
"To the person reading this thank you for being such a wonderful human being. I hope in our next life you will have the healthiest lungs in the world. You deserve all the best in the world. Thank you for always reminding me about happiness. I promise that I will fight this battle until the day I find happiness in this world."
-Happily breathing borrowed air,
Liam

I don't know if I will continue reading this book because by the time I saw the note my tears started to fall. I never imagined that Liam would see me as a good human being. He always pushes me away like I'm just a piece of trash for him. He never told me that  he's thankful to have me. As I'm scanning the pages of the book I saw a lots of illustrations and words (of course) the draft contains  10 chapters and the titles of each chapter is somehow catchy but I wonder how these titles are made. Like the title of chapter one.

*Reading*

"Chapter One: The poems of 16"
When I was a kid I used to live with my grandparents. They are the ones who raised me.They taught me so many things in life. But as I grow every year my mind starts to wonder so many things in life. I remember that time when I was 6 or 7  years old I always wondered how stories and lyrics are made. I used to ask my grandfather how authors and composers make such a great story  and songs. I will never forget what  he said to me that time. When he was a kid like me he used to write poems. Life hits him hard and no one will ever understand how he feels and there comes a time that he also does not understand  how he truly  feels so, he turns it into a poem. He said that stories, poems and songs are made when a person doesn't understand the message of the heart. He always reminds me that when you can't understand everything in my mind it's better to turn it into poems or stories. If you can't explain how everything goes in your life it's better to just make it more sensible. Make a story out of it and let that story tell how you truly feel. As time went by my grandfather died  I never had a chance to say how he changed my perspective in life since I was a kid and also that time my grades started to fall. I cannot forget how depressed I am when I got low grades in music. I don't know what to do at that time. So, I decided to write a poem. I try to put in some words that will match how I truly feel. That is the first time I wrote a poem while crying. I don't know how I did that or how I constructed the poem. All I know is that poem comforts me when no one else wants to. As time went by I started to write a lot of poems and little by little I also started to write novels. After my grandfather died everything was out of place. I'm studying and currently in my third year. Everything seems to be fine 2 or 3 years ago but then everything breaks when the path I chose turns to be the path that will ruin everything. I enjoyed learning new stuff and I'm sure every student enjoyed their student life. But it will be more enjoyable when you have friends. I don't have one. I didn't even feel I belonged to anyone. All I have is myself and my untold poems. They seem to be my friends when I need someone to talk to. I do everything alone. It's sad to be alone but that's how life is, you never know who will stay with you at the end. Maybe you're lucky enough when someone stays even in your hardest times but if there's none you must learn to love yourself. " 

Liam's childhood days aren't the same as other people's childhood days. He learned so many things in life when he's still young. As I read the first chapter of his life I started to understand every single thing of his perspective. Little by little I understand his realistic side when it comes to life.  It's hard to survive life alone. It's hard to be the only one that knows how you feel. As the time continues to pass I still don't know how everything goes. Claire hasn't come back yet since she went to the ICU so I decided to read more chapters.

"Liam, what is your dream?"

"I don't have any dreams. Leah, I'm stuck in this damn hospital for years and now you're asking me what is my dream? Do you think that a patient like me who's going to die anytime soon will have a dream? Leah, please be realistic."

When two people meet in times that dream doesn’t exist in reality would they choose to be realistic even if their lives are coming to an end? Will they see their purpose in this world? Will they believe in the magic of dreams, love, and hope?

Throughout my writing process, the topics of my own emotional anguish and the events that untied the knot of the pain I kept locked up appear repeatedly. I kept this in mind as I continued to write and used my writing as a coping mechanism to help me with my unstable mentality. Each chapter is connected to show events, emotions, and the pain I have experienced over the year so far. Emotions and psychological themes are a huge part of my writing due to my interests in the subjects and due to my troubles related to said themes. With these themes in mind, I used my trauma, sadness over a breakup, and my times of overthinking to write poems and narrations to show how my pain has affected me. I took a personal route in my writing to share a story of struggles as well as a story of strength. I did this both for myself, and so I can share more about myself with my readers and show them that even the simplest events can affect someone. I wanted to teach my readers how certain disorders like Depression and Anxiety work, and I feel that if someone else feels the same way, they won't feel alone when reading my pieces. At the start of writing this book, I felt lost in what I should write about as well as who I am as a writer. Overtime, I started to see how different my writing was from others and felt encouraged when critiques as well as compliments on my writing by my family and friends. Usually these themes are a little too personal or are too much information to some but for me, I feel very comfortable sharing my emotions and my experiences with others. I've noticed that it helps me create a sense of understanding towards myself and it allows others to see the darker parts of life. I usually try to have a cynical theme to my writing as well, by using the tone into the narrator, I feel that the tone goes very well with the subjects of the poems and my non-fiction writings. My narrations and poems are dark but I feel that such themes can suck a person in if used correctly, which I feel I did do. Each chapter is unique and each connects due to specific themes they share and I feel proud of the stories and poems I have put so much time and effort into. I hope this book can help others know that feeling sad, anxious, or other emotions related is okay and that you will get through it with time.

This book is full of poems and writings that are personal to me and show my experiences through battling mental health, my inner demons, and real life events of mine.

Noah- i just dont know rose but you are really pretty and you are the most beautiful eyes I just don't know I just felt that I have fallen for you in a second when eyes meet with each other I really love that eye contact with you I am so sorry if you feel awkward that I am saying this things to you but whatever I am saying it's true I'm really sorry if you feel bad.

Rose- o Oh ho sweet of you saying such things to me.

Noah- your welcome sweetie.

Rose- can you say something about you I wanna know you "

Noah- Why not? So I am 18 years old my name is Noah and I really love to swim and write short poems I know many of people are not attracted to this small poems poems but I am really attracted to them I just don't know whenever I am sad whenever I am happy I just like poems like a short and I just express my feelings from that poems

Rose- oh that's really cool like why people don't like it I really appreciate such kind of thing I am really happy that I met someone who do the same thing has been even I do write small short stories I really love to write small and short stories and I express my feelings.

Noah- oh my god now I feel that we are connected to each other don't you feel that rose

Rose - here's my home i am going home bubyee sorry if i am rude for not answering the question but i dont know how to answer it either.

At Home.

Mom- who was that guy ?

Rose -MOMM!!!!
Mom - Yesterday you told that you don't want to get involved in any boyfriend material so who is he he is Your Man right I know rules even I was the same when I was young like you don't keep secrets Rose I am your mum and I know you well

Am I really falling for him he was so sweet today where he told that my eyes are beautiful really loved his really dark Husky voice which I really loved. let's see what happened next I don't know what will happen whether I will be together with him or not let's sleep good night

what will happen next?
Noah will ask her out for a date  or not?
keep reading keep supporting
thank you so much for reading my story it's almost 2 k reads and I'm really happy see please read my story.

So.... I found out you can make a grilled cheese sandwich with mayonnaise. 

 My back is all sunburned from pulling grass and stuff. Like my left shoulder and right shoulder blade sting. It's not to bad though. I remember this one time I had severe sun burn. Like my skin was peeling off and It hurt whenever my skin came in contact with something. 



Anyways, I've been trying to think of ways to make my relationship better. I just realized that saying "I love you" everyday doesn't  mean much. I really I want to get something for her, but she doesn't want anything. I also know that material things are not really great at expressing your feelings. So I thought " I can do or make something for her."

 Though, what could I do? I mean I have a few things I am good at. Maybe I can write how I feel then give it to her. Not a love letter, but just expressing what I think, feel, believe, and value. I could also write a poem. Maybe a few poems? A book of poems? That actually sounds pretty good. I already have a few love poems written with her as my inspiration. I could just write all that down and make her read it. Then keep adding poems to it over time. Though, I don't know if I should post it online. I mean, what if someone else steals my work? Then again, poetry is art and art has to be appreciated. There is no way anyone will appreciate art if it's locked away. 



So yeah. Maybe I should start posting up my poetry. Would any of you read it? Does anyone even read this? Currently my journal says over 3 thousand views, but do you guys really read this journal? Or do you just skim over it? Do you just get bored and forget? Then go on to delete my journal from your library? Anyways, I just want to see if I have actual readers. So if you've really read this. Could you make a comment?


I Just want to see if there is anyone who actually reads my bull shit.



Sincerely: Calamity

My Journal of thoughts and poems
I have lots of things on my mind
I'll write when I have something to enter in this Journal

June 3, 2012 – Sunday 10 am – Okuba, Nabla
""""""Dear Payew, 
Congratulations! On behalf of Rinowra School of Ouigab, I am pleased to announce of your admission into the 12th grade for this coming 2012 – 2013 school year.
The academic achievements you have achieved within your school reflect what we value, respect, and expect from our students. Ambition, compassion, and curious intellect are the foundations of the Rinowra School experience. Be proud to have joined a select group of students. 
For 72 years, students who have entered Rinowra School have left prepared for success in their college education. Rinowra graduates gain a clear advantage among their peers and boast an admission rate of over 90% into the best universities around the world. We believe that the personalized education we provide and are still striving to improve, allows our students to thrive both in the campus and in their future studies.
Payew, we are excited that you have been accepted to join the Rinowra School Class of 2013. Please review the enclosed 'Checklist' for the next steps needed to make our school a part of your future. If you … """""""
I'm accepted. I'm surprised. Even though I'm the top of my grade in my high school, it's a fact that public schools in general are lacking compared to those high schools for the rich. However, I know I deserve it. Even though I'm from a public high school, I've given extra effort to study and read outside the curriculum to be number 1.
I actually don't care about being number 1 in my school; I just followed Tayaw's advice. Before he went off to college, he said 'Don't just study hard for the sake of studying. Make sure that every lesson on the textbook; know how to apply them in real life.' It was hard at first. If it was how I studied before, I would just memorize things and I'm good. But when I started studying and researching on each subjects, my reading basically multiplied. 
Thankfully, knowing how to apply them to practice made the stuff I read go down easier. The amount of information I also process while studying made me realize I've become smarter. I can connect information easier, and my memory improved as well. While I reduced the time of reading, my time applying the knowledge increased.
"That's the admission letter? Congratulations man." Tayaw said when he saw the letter on my hand. He came for a visit again after coming from Italy as an acclaimed movie director. I can't believe a world famous director is still sleeping in a bunk bed in my bedroom. 
"Yeah. It sounded braggy." I said. "Well. They have the right to. That's why I chose it for you." Tayaw said. 
Instead of applying to the Preparatory High School near dad's auto shop like the family talked about, Tayaw instead had me apply at Rinowra in Ouigab. It's not a boarding school, but still one of the best private high schools in the whole Northern Teungeb.
"mm. That's good. It actually won't make a difference what you study. Just study the way you're doing, and you'll be fine." Tayaw said. He's assuring me, but I'm honestly anxious. 
"Hah. Easy for you to say. I heard they're full of snobby kids from rich families." I said. "Hey. That school is different. They only care about grades. Sure, there may be a lot of rich kids there, but if they worked hard in studying, I bet they did not have the time to learn to be snobby." Tayaw said. 
"I'm jealous of you man. You didn't study hard in high school and now, according to dad, you can now retire if you want to and go for vacation for the rest of your life. I wish I'm an author too." I said. Sincerely, but I hid it in a jesting tone. I know though that I'm not an artist like him. Writing songs, writing books, and making a movie, and I don't even know how to do them even if I'm given millions of BGCs to start. I can say for sure because since Tayaw became a famous author, I've tried writing songs and stories in my spare time. 
"Hey. Play to your strengths. You're book smart and you can apply what you learn in real life. Just look at your garden in the backyard. I would not believe you grew that from just the knowledge you read from books. Look at your old game boy, you fixed it yourself after looking it up on the internet. Not everyone can do that." Tayaw said, which consoled me.
"Strength. Is that why mom and dad don't care if Agew don't get high grades? Making good vases is his strength?" I asked. 
"Exactly. And painting stuff too. He's good with his hands.  Now. Do you like learning things?" Tayaw asked. "Yes. It was fun measuring the area of our lot, how much of it is occupied by the house, how much is spare for other stuff. You know that whe-" "Alright. The point is you're having fun doing it. As long as you're having fun doing something productive, it's good." Tayaw said and went back to fiddling with his laptop. 
Why is he always busy? He's already rich and he just finished a movie. "What are you doing?" I asked out of curiosity. "Oh. I've wrote a lot of songs, but I can't possibly perform them all. I'm writing them down to sell. " Tayaw replied. 'Possibly'? "Just how many songs have you written?" I asked. "I don't know. Thousands? I'm sorting out the best ones." He explained as if it's no big deal.
"thousands… Then that's hundreds of albums, huh?" I read on the internet that an album at least have 7 or 8 songs as long as they're 31 minutes or more combined. "No. It's not that simple. Most of them are not good enough." He said. "So aside from writing books you wrote the lyrics too? How did you write lyrics for thousands of songs?" I asked, overwhelmed by the amount of work it will take. "What? Ah. I've misspoke. The songs I'm talking about are just the music. I've not written lyrics for them yet." He said. 
Still, that's a lot of work. "I see. Is that American band the only people you've sold songs to?" "Sold-.. Yes. They're the only ones for now. Hey. How's your English by the way?" Tayaw asked me suddenly. "It's going okay, I guess. I'm listening to recorded radio shows. I'm making some simple poems to practice too." I said. Whenever I do gardening or walk to and from school, I've recently gotten into radio shows. Aside from that, I also listen to Tayaw's English songs. 
"Poems? What type of poems?" Tayaw asked, showing interest, which he usually doesn't. Now I wish I had not told him about the poems. "They're just for practice. They're not anything special." I said. "Why?" "Well, because it's not formal English. I'm just writing casual stuff to remember new words I learned." I said.
"That's good. That's good. Do you write Teungebian poems too?" He asked, thankfully not insisting. "Yeah. I use them to memorize stuff so they don't really form … coherent stories." I explained. It's fun doing them. Since elementary school, long before I studied using Tayaw's 'apply into practice' style, I always wrote poems to memorize stuff easier instead of acronyms that I always forget. "That's good. Let's say you don't have to use formal writing, and you form coherent stories, can you still write poems?" He asked. Can't he just ask if I can write actual poems?
"Yeah. I think so. I don't know if they're good though. Why?" I asked. "Well, can you let me take a look at your poems?" He brought it up again. I know he will insist or bribe. But I feel guilty whenever he bribes using stuff that are much more valuable than the simple things he wants from me. I also know he doesn't like embarrassing people, so I guess I just have to show him. "Alright." 
A minute later, *flip* *flip* *flip* "hmm… mmm.. mmhhhmm.. hmm? Hmm." basing on his expression, at least he doesn't seem to hate it. "You wanna move in my house at Ouigab?" He suddenly asked. "On August?" I asked. "On August. My bed room is large enough for two beds." He explained. So, he has a house too in Ouigab? He can afford it but he never told mom and dad he bought one. 
"Yeah? Why can't just get a spare room then?" I asked. It's a valid question. If he bought a house, then he definitely bought a large one just like the one he bought in New York. "Well. You know the band I played with in my YouTube Channel? They live with me. We make music." He explained. It makes sense now. At least I know now that he's at least not living alone. He's even living 1,2,3 …  6 people! He's living with more people than he did when he was living here. He's not lonely. 
"Alright! I'll go." I'm excited. It's only two months and I can't wait. 
"You're 16 now. Had your driver's license yet?" He asked. "YEAHP. But.. Dad doesn't allow me to drive by myself when I drive here to and from his workshop in Jebung … He gets yell-y too, but I get why." I said. "Hmm? That's a long drive. SO you're driving to his workshop now huh." He said in surprise. It is understandable. 65 kilometers, more than an hour drive on zig zags is tough. "At first, I would always feel spent. But now, I don't feel as tired." I assured, when I saw the worried look on his face. 
"Alright. Be careful. If you can drive safely without even leaving a scratch on dad's van, I may even buy you a car when you get to Ouigab." He said. I'm gob smacked. I don't even know what to say.

A/N : Alt Title - Jack of Entertainment 

Title : Jack of Arts

Synopsis:
Tayaw is a talented musician who never got to fulfill his potential. After losing his purpose in an unfulfilled life full of regrets; he is given the chance to go back in time and do everything over again.Along with a mysterious gift and an unclear mission, Tayaw starts a new life, this time making his mark to the world.
"Tayaw is a once in a hundred years musical artist! I just wish he was born in my generation"
- Buddy Rich, two-time Gramophone Award winner
"I admit he's a good musician, but he's an author first and foremost. He is changing the world of literature for the better."
- Helena Paddington, Outcault Prize for Fiction winner, Sohlman Prize for Literature winner.
"Despite being a musician and an author, he is to me, the greatest blessing to the film industry. This is his era."
- Heo Dong-jun, two-time Academy Award winner for Best Director and three-time nominee.

"I don't like him. Why does he use actors who didn't train and grind on the stage? He says he doesn't like my acting? What the hell does the kid know about acting? I've won awards for f*cks sake!"
- Merrell Street, five-time Academy Award winner for Best Actor, three-time Toby Award winner for Best Actor.




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A ground work for a novel idea in the future.
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English is not my first language so excuse my limited vocabulary and bad grammar. thanks


Time is unpredictable. Every action we make leads to a different heading. Still every one of us worries about what lies ahead. On what's in store for our lives. We worry about the tomorrow every single day.  Wishing that tomorrow will be better from today. A tomorrow in which there's no pain, suffering and hurt, a new beginning, new chances and opportunities. We all wish for a tomorrow like that. Still I learned in my life to never look forward. To not expect on what tomorrow will bring. Because I don't want to be disappointed. To look forward for a future that I know I can never have. Yeah it's depressing, but I've live my life like this. Always looking back, never forward. It's one of the curses of being able to remember everything. You'll keep on wanting to forget or either go back to the times you still can laugh and be happy. In which I didn't have any of those.
It's been about seven years or so. Since I last saw the girl who gave color and happiness to my life. The girl that I haven't seen in such a long time. Still I remember everything about her. But the worst part is I know that she doesn't recall any moment of us being together, well it's been seven years and some people might have moved on and had met other people. Found happiness and know where their lives are heading to. But not me. I still feel heavy and empty. Yet I'm getting by. I college graduate with a degree in literature. Can't even believe that the course that I would choose is about writing. Right now I'm working at a newspaper. But I don't write news article. I'm still writing with my specialty. Poems that I don't know if anyone actually notices. I get feedback from readers every once and a while. But I think no ones that interested in my work.
I've been also trying to write my own book that I would publish with the many I have. Well it's a move that's unlike me. But I have a story to tell. Yet I'm having troubles in writing neither the ending nor the next events. Well you see since I can't forget her and almost every night she is still on my mind. What I do is write about her. Write a story about me and her. Our ifs. Yet I can't really be optimistic. That's why even on the book I'm writing it still ends up like this. The lead character being lost. Having to say goodbye to the only thing that's giving his world light. I really miss Ana. Each night I go on wondering where is she now. Still hoping that we will see each other again. Though my heart knows it's impossible
For seven years it's been like this. At first I stayed in touch with Ana's parents but after some time. I can't contact them. That's why for seven years I've been living my life wondering. There are moment where I almost gave into depression. But I held on because deep inside a fragment of my sanity believes that we will see each other again. Well I think that's about it. Your all caught up with my life. Nothing really much happened in college. As always I was a loner and an outcast, because I choose to be one. That's why for seven years. The only person I interacted with is my boss. Who discovered my poems when I was still a student. Ironically the poem that my boss read to hire me. Was the first poem I wrote for Ana, but I just went with it. My boss is really nice. He loves poetry that's why he keeps on insisting putting a section of it in his newspaper, thanks to him I have a job.
A job that I'm not that passionate about. But I'm ok with it. Because maybe this was it. The last remnant of  Ana that is still in me. That spark of being able to write once more. Maybe someday I'll get over everything. Someday I'll be fine. I'll just continue writing poems. And writing my book. I'm ok with this being the ending of a story. But once more things change. Another event that would make me hope for a better tomorrow that I know will be sorrow.
I was walking home. I went of my office minding my own business. Just like when I was in high school. Ears plug with music not minding the world or my surrounding. Lost in thought instead of the melody that I'm hearing. Thinking. Being on my own even surrounded by many people walking. Then something broke the silence. Someone burst my bubble. A person that I've been wanting to see for this whole seven years. It was her Ana
"Hey" she said to me as she tries to get my attention
But I didn't hear her at first because I'm listening to music. So he touched my shoulder and once again said
"Hey are you Joseph"
Then I finally notice her. I turned around and saw her. It's been seven years. I don't know what to actually feel. My mind turned blank. The thoughts that I was lost in suddenly  disappear and all I wanted to do was to hug her. But I didn't because this all feels unreal that's why I thought I was imagining things. But no it was really her. That smile. That voice, that same innocence in her eyes. It was really her. And she remembers me.
"Ana is that you?"
"Oh how do you know my name? That's weird I didn't remember we have met before"
Then once again my hope turned into nothing. Because she don't remember me but how can she recognize me then from what I can see. I figure it out.
"Uhm no but it's written in your name tag"
Luckily she was wearing a nametag I was safe. 
"Oh yes my bad. Well I don't really know you as a person but I recognize you from this" she said and showed me the newspaper
Then just like I thought she only recognize me because of the newspaper she was holding. I didn't know what to feel. Happy that she continues to read my work or sad because she can't remember me and that I once wrote for her
"I see well thanks for your support"
I wanted to end the conversation. Because I thought to myself it's better to end things here. Rather than make myself hope that the new memories that will about the make if I keep the conversation going is a memory she'll remember. 
"Your welcome" she said with a smile on her face
"Well I have to get going now once again thanks and it was nice meeting you"
I said those words. Because I cant bear looking at that smile. I don't want to be hopeful once more. But as I was about to leave she grabbed my hand. Then it reminded me when we first met on that bridge.
"Wait don't leave"
"Why?"
"Well two reasons. Let me know more about your work. The second reason is…"
"What is it?"
"Is I don't how to get home will you help me?"
I just don't know what is happening. What is causing this turn of events. After seven long years we met again. But why me to all the people to ask. Why me? For all the people that is walking in this area why did she ask me?
"I don't know how to help you and why me?
"Because I want it to be you, I don't know how to explain it. But your poems has always spoke to me. Each time I read your work on this newspaper I feel as if we know each other and I cant remember. Then as I forget how to get home. I was holding this newspaper then I saw you and recognize your face from the picture here posted as the writer. Well I'm sorry for being a bother but I just really need your help"
What she said made me happy. Because I've been writing in the news paper for about 3 years and if she was reading my work all this time that meant one thing. All the poems I've written so far have reached her. Just hearing her say the word that my poems spoke to her. That made me feel so relieved. That all this time I wasn't writing for nothing. All my efforts was not in vain. that's why with that being said. I didn't overthink. I just smiled at her and walked with her.
"Fine I'll help you get home"
Those were my words but yes deep inside I'm happy but still holding back my words
"Yay Thanks and let me properly introduce myself I'm Ana."
"Ok I'm Joseph got any idea where you live?"
"Not a clue, you see I suffer from short term memory loss. So sometimes there are details in my life that I tend to forget."
"Well I guess for now lets walk around and see if you can spot a familiar place for you"
We started walking around and talking. Then we decided to rest for a bit by sitting down on a bench. There we continued our conversation
"so tell me more about yourself Ana?"
I tried small talk. Asking her questions to get some hint about what was she doing in the past seven years
"Well right now I honestly don't know what to do."
"What do you mean by that?"
"You see I have short term memory loss"
"Yeah you told me that and so?"
"Because of this condition. I forget a lot things about my life. I cant retain any memory. I only remember the now then later on forget it. Living like this has been hard. Especially for those I love. My parents have the hardest jobs. Because for years they have been taking care of me. Enduring hospital bills and buying the medication I need. Also I cant really bear to see them cry sometimes. Because there are moments when I make them cry."
"How do you know that?"
"I've started writing a journal a while back. Sometimes when I wake up I read it. But there are days when I don't believe I have short term memory loss. Those are the normal days for me. And today is where I believe I have short term memory in which are the weird days. But the worst days is when I cant remember anything"
What she told me had open my eyes on how hard it must be for her parents and also for her. No wonder they didn't stay in contact since they have to focus in caring for Ana
"then how come you remember my work?"
"well its because it's a weird day. And theres a whole section of your poems in my journal. That's why on weird days like these I read some of them. Luckily today I met you. That's why let me ask you. Who are you really writing for? Or what is your inspiration"
As she asked that question. I don't know weather to tell her the truth about its for her, or not. That's why as I writer I just answer vaguely. By telling her a story about a girl.  Because I don't want to really hope once again that I will be remembered
"Uhm its for a girl I met seven years ago. A girl that bought color to my life. And through my poems I hope I could reach her"
"Why? Where did this girl go anyway?"
"She went abroad. I haven't really heard from her since. For seven years I worry about her. Wondering if shes ok or if I'll ever meet her again. I keep on thinking if she will remember me when we see each other again or not"
"I'm sure she remembers you not unless…"
"Unless what?"
"She has short term memory loss like I do hahaha"
Then she laugh. I cant believe even knowing her situation she still laughed about it.  But me I just stared at her
"Oh sorry my bad. But really, I know she remembers you. Especially when she read some of your poems I'm sure she will remember you"
" I hope she does"
After that we just go on talking. Then I remember how she can get home.  I remember when we were highs school her phone has directions to their home. So she checked it and I walked her home.
"I had a really fun time" she said with a smile
"Me too it was nice talking to you. Also meeting you"
This has been like the seventh first meeting I had with her. But after this I don't know what to do. How can I stay in touch with her. That's why I did something for the first time. 
"Can I borrow your phone for a few minutes?"
"Sure why?"
"Uhm it's a surprise?
Then there I was once again writing for her
Tomorrow
To you everyday
Is a new day
Every night your memories go away
And that's not really ok
That's why I hope I can find a way
For me in your mind to stay
Can you write this day
In your journal so you could remember
The moments we had together
And on your weird days remember
To call me cause here is my number
I'll be waiting even its winter or summer
What lies ahead we may not know
But still I hope you never let go
Of the hope for a better tomorrow

This was all I can write at the moment. A short poem for her. In which I hope she read sometimes. After that. I went on home said my goodbye and hoping to see her again. We can never really predict whats coming. What time will bring. May it be new beginnings or old ones. But that is how life is. Always changing. Every choice we make leads to a different direction. That's why I learn to never expect. But right now I think for once I'll be expecting again for a better tomorrow. Without really knowing what comes next?.....

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