Writing prompts from me to you. I personally cant write well, might aswell share ideas.

This letter will be called, "the importance of the occasional vomit" or, "the barf paper". Now, to understand what I mean by barf paper, you should first understand the differences between poetic writing, musical writing and normal writing, oh yeah, sure! poems are only for this or that types huuh! Well, second off, bullshit! Third, music and normal are more closely related types than poetry is and so, I've found it, (poetry) to be a wonderful moderator between the other two, say I'm trying to write a piece of music, I start losing words, even whole phrases, ive got two other forms of writing to draw contexts from! Making three, forms, and, there are more than that but, for now, lets just keep it simple with the three. One very useful facet of this new dynamic, is that for me, the different writing forms actually flow together, interweaving their very own mystery which waits for me to find IT! This view also serves as a destructor of writers block, which can be vary insidious but, the ready made mystery detector, of these three writing forms, interlaced, interlocking, smooth as glass and twice as shocking, IS (probably) just another form (of writing), and actually very different from free writing or auto writing. Those two, (probably the same thing), cant quite mirror but, do nearly mimic, the other three, used together. HERE!! Ill show you how! Form writing is a learned and structured experience, with definite marks, rules grammar, punctuation etc., whereas, auto writing, allows the penner or writer, the freedom of both mind and self, to collaborate and mingle at the same TIME, as creation is taking place. Now, the two of these concepts, auto and form writing, both or, each, have their own "lists of most compatible linguistic devices", which can do their mimic, mirror dance actually behind your eyes or, "the eyes of where you create from", and ritualize for themselves, say, the muse invokations that are so popular among certain genre type writers, now, if perhaps id actually bothered to get myself an education on writing, I could be spouting off a lot of spiffy little quotes from all the giants of ours and other AGES, which could even tug this little shysterfest of an idea, along into perhaps an instructional manual, perhaps even cohesively, weaving, so to speak, the previously aforementioned "forms of writing", into an example of this, BRAID, form that I may have just come up with. How then does one  begin, a braid? Well, start, with the form you're most accustomed to, (normal, poetic and or musical) practice one, for a couple of hours, get comfy with it, then switch to one of the other two forms, then after a couple of hours of that, do a couple hours in the third form, and proceed as you would in making a hair braid, making each overlapping "layer of strands", or threads, wider and more supportive to each last, or leaner and more primal and muscular. Wash, rinse, repeat!.... The biggest rule, to the tri braid writing form is, that you must set your OWN rhythmic boundaries for each of the three subordinate forms used in the braid. And, understanding this also involves just accepting that not all poetry RHYMES! Or even should RHYME! Some of the best poems DON'T rhyme! And any professor of it worth his salt, will tell you or, at least try to teach you, that there IS meaning, and then there's rhythm, and that to sacrifice all of one for all of the other, well, some say it negates the very practice but, I've come to think of that Meaning, Rhythm, Fulcrum, as a kind of a compass, yeah, im just that self involved! Or, it may be that its a part of my muse getting invokation or some such, here nor there, this is exactly how its done. If you've decided to invest in the unrest of the politically disadvantaged, or, if some social injustice looms and beckons your off hours, or if you're just fascinated with rhythm and then force-feeding it meaning, then, this may be right up your alley! And here! Ill tell you another secret! That ill explain the relevance of to you later but, certain, very few, altered states, can be counted on, (quite?) reliably, to produce a certain quality and range of variables within the fabric of your story. One, extreme elation. Probably the best one, learn to use your other emotional states to drive your creative process and clash your ideas every now and then but, if you learn to differentiate between your personal moods, WHILE creating, and the personal  moods of the characters or environments in your work, this prompts detailing, and even a sort of "MACHO" thing for some people but, im not here to judge, ill move on from emotional states, to the seriously more ominous and least navigable, mental states. Hint, there's lots more mental states than there are emotional ones. (There are more variables in one than in the other?)  We just haven't, or wont, go exploring as a human race!! And so, acclimatize into our discomfort zones as outwardly as our characters will allow. ONE reason I know this is true and real is it sounds good one MORE, reason, IS, that ive experienced, actually differentiated, multiple mental states meaning, when I'm on the verge of a seizure, I can actually draw, or write, from states which seem to merge say, inquisitiveness with say, anger or fear or, maybe pride with joy, in some times more magnified ways and in one way, it makes the common sense that everyone already knows, but in another, those states ive mentioned seem to feel, a certain waY, THE THING IS THE "SEEMING", TO FEEL, is itself the connection for every one mind, to every common heart, out there searching or, knowing already, those others who understand him! And that is the very key toto creating a believably  character, that set of voices, vibes and variables, that gives any good story its vavoom! Or, whatever it requires to move it along its timeline, which brings us to plot, and this in combination with environment, will usually round out the toolbox for depth of character, with the exception of preferrences and natural attributes, the character can be clay to the external environment or, the vice versa. Intentions, emotions, thoughts and impulses however, make up say, internal environments, environs more conducive to protagonistic behavior, whereas antagonisms preclude behaviors driven by insinct and or intuition, as per the or depending on, the sex of the antagonist, male or female supposedly as, instinct and intuition are often seen as male and female traits, the protagonist, either individual or faction, oddly enough, more oftentimes displays the moral as counterpoint to the more often emotional responses of the antagonist. Unless of course, your plot is thicker and or, more twisted, than conventional, usual, academia would instruct. Or, if you use your imagination, you can follow yourself around as your creative process leads the characters, events and environs in and along the storyline. This This can This can be used to suspend disbelief, or, lay in a new scene setting or even to detail a single image and or the importance of, a single image as in say a verbal montage or, introduction or other narrative. 


"Traveler, your system has arrived. Congratulations on getting the invincible tracking system!"
Chen Chen was a little bored sitting at the entrance of Stone Village. Just as he was feeling down, a voice suddenly rang in his mind.
Hearing this voice, Chen Chen felt energized, immediately jumping up from the rock at the front of the village.
"System? A late plug-in?"
"The current tracking system is level one, and the host can track anything within ten meters!"
When the voice in his mind continued speaking, Chen Chen was so moved he could have cried.
He had been in this world for sixteen years. He originally thought it was a certain historical era, but when he was two years old, he saw someone flying in the sky. That was when he realized that this was a fairy world!
As a result, the history he had majored in was useless, and he couldn't become famous by writing poetry. He didn't know physics and chemistry very well back then, so he couldn't do anything with science and technology either. The only way he got a second glance from Erya next door was when he did the bookkeeping.
Unexpectedly, today… the plug-in had finally arrived!
He didn't care about tracking or whatever, as long as it was a system. He had done nothing for more than ten years. By now, he didn't care what it was!
A person should be grateful. It was great to have a system at all!
'Anything within ten meters... Is there a limit to the number of times it can be used?' Chen Chen asked in his mind.
"There's no limit to the number of uses allowed. The system will trigger hidden tasks for the host, upgrade hidden achievements, and occasionally reward the host, so please work hard!"
Then, the voice in his mind disappeared.
Chen Chen pondered over this for a long time. He looked at the barren village entrance, suddenly feeling a little helpless.
The entirety of Stone village was tenant farmers. Everyone was poor, so what could he possibly track?
The wife of the village chief did seem to have a valuable piece of jewelry, but was he going to steal it after he tracked it? There was a good chance he would be beaten to death if he did.
But he was in no hurry. Since it was a system, it must have its purposes. He had to develop it slowly.
His top priority for now was to go home, so he could experiment with the system in peace.
Making up his mind to do this, Chen Chen quickly walked towards his home.
His family was an ordinary one in Stone Village, and his parents were tenant farmers. Although they were not rich, his family was harmonious and could be considered happy.
When he returned home, his parents were still farming outside, and weren't home yet.
Silently in his mind, Chen Chen said, 'Track the money at home.'
"In the cabinet, three meters away, are 120 coins."
This was where his family kept their money. Chen Chen knew it well, and his parents did not hide it from him.
"Under the bed, four meters away, are forty coins."
What?!
Chen Chen didn't know about this money at all. It was in his parents' room, just four meters away. Could it be his father's hidden private money?
Chen Chen thought about it carefully and concluded that it was really possible, so he immediately walked to the next room and looked under the bed. After searching for a while, he found a small cloth bag with forty coins.
'Indeed, there is money!' Chen Chen thought to himself, then returned the cloth bag to its original place.
More prompts continued to arrive in his mind.
"Go forward five steps and dig ten centimeters underground. There is a rusty copper coin."
Hearing this reminder, Chen Chen eagerly took out a small shovel and started digging. It didn't take long for him to find a rusty copper coin.
After thinking for a long time, he faintly remembered that he had lost such a coin when he was a child. It was his New Year's gift money, and he had been upset for a long time...
'Since I have this system, maybe I could go to the county to pick up money for a living…' Chen Chen couldn't help thinking, but he wanted to slap himself immediately after this idea was born.
As a time-traveler with a system, how could he be so pathetic?
This would be an embarrassment for his time-traveling predecessors!
At this moment, a voice rang from the system in his mind.
"Achievement completed: Using the system for the first time. Reward earned: A chance to track anything within Shichuan County."
Hearing this reminder, Chen Chen couldn't help but think of picking up money once again.
The entirety of Shichuan County must have a lot of lost money...
"Pfft! How could I want to pick up money? I've come to this fairy world; of course I need to find a way to cultivate immortality!"
Chen Chen settled down and didn't use this opportunity immediately.
Who knew when he'd be able to track such a large area again? It was such a good opportunity; he didn't want to waste it. He'd have to wait until he was thoroughly familiar with the system before using it.
And it must be used for cultivating immortality!
In this fairy world, a big fist was the last word, and those who were immortal had the biggest fists.
However, the number of immortals was very small. In Shichuan County, only the county magistrate may have some level of cultivation. Squires, landlords, etc. were, at most, ordinary people who had a little bit of ability.
In the past, Chen Chen had nothing to do with cultivating immortality. For ordinary people like him, they would be pretty lucky if they saw a flying fairy even once in their lives.
It was as likely as seeing a UFO in his past life.
Now that he had a system, Chen Chen wanted to climb to the top of this world, of course.
It had not been easy for his parents to raise him all these years. Now that he had turned on the protagonist mode, it was time to repay them.
They couldn't be tenant farmers anymore. It was more cost-effective to pick up money from the ground than to be a tenant farmer… 
Chen Chen continued experimenting with the system while thinking these random thoughts.
"Search for a fairy and show it to me."
"There is no such creature within ten meters."
"Search for a beauty and show her to me."
"There is no such creature within ten meters."
"Is it possible to track anything else that's valuable."
"Go forward six meters, turn three meters, lower your head, and you will see something valuable."
Chen Chen was a little surprised when he heard the system's voice.
He had just been asking as a joke, but there actually was something?!
His family was poor, with only a hundred or so coins in savings. So where was the valuable object?
Deciding not to think about it any longer, Chen Chen quickly followed the system's prompts and found the place.
It was his family's pigpen. The big, black pig in the pigsty was a bit tired and currently sleeping.
And under his feet, there was nothing but a pile of manure.
"System, you are tricking me! Do you think sh*t is valuable?"
"The feces of a mutated pig, once consumed after an illness, can increase one's lifespan for three months."
Chen Chen was completely speechless when he heard this information from the system.
Unexpectedly, Lao Hei, the pig living in his own house, was a little mutated. Simply by chance, he also produced feces that could increase lifespan...
Chen Chen had to admit… Things that increased longevity were indeed valuable.
But he couldn't eat feces. He was only 16 years old, and he didn't need a lifespan this much...
He couldn't sell the feces either.
He couldn't exactly hold a lump of feces and tell others, "Brother, let me show you a treasure. Look, this is a lump of mutant sh*t. If you ate it, you could live three months longer!"
Chen Chen was willing to bet that if he did this, others would beat him to death.
So this pile of feces, ugly on the outside, but extraordinary on the inside, was destined to be buried.
　　...
(The power system in this book, ranked from low to high: mortal, qi training, foundation building, golden core, primordial soul, primordial spirit, imaginary training, joined body, Mahayana, immortal.
The typical person during the Qi training period goes from one to ten, and the big realms of foundation building and golden core and later are divided into four small realms: the early stage, the middle stage, the late stage, and the peak.)


Traveling through the Xianxia world, Chen Chen obtained the strongest tracking system and was able to track everything ever since. 
Chen Chen says, "System, I am short of money." 
"Two meters away, your father has hidden some money under the bed. Five meters away, there is a rusty copper coin buried half a meter underground." 
"There is a nugget of silver in the grass ahead." 
Chen Chen says, "System, I need some luck."
 "The feces in front of the pigsty is not ordinary." 
"Go to the Black Peak cliff ten kilometers away and jump off it." 
"There is an Immortal Cave Abode hidden somewhere, please explore it on your own." 

Hey! What's up, folks?
It's a-me, M̶a̶r̶i̶o̶ ThinWhiteWalrus!

I recently got a message from one of the devs? I presume, in Wattpad. They asked me to use this platform. Admittedly I haven't been writing much, so I thought I might as well write something here.

In this book I'll write a bunch of one shots. One shots are basically a story written in a single chapter. This requires a lot of writing prompts, which I'm hoping you guys can send me!

Occasionally if I find interesting prompts on the Internet I'll fill the book with some stories myself.

Warning: I'm no professional author, so if you see some mistakes feel free to correct me! 

I'm still not too clear on how this app works. Is there a comment section? If so, comment writing prompts for me to write! It's all (obviously) free. I'm not gonna ask for money or anything, don't worry.

Right time for me to go write. Thanks for reading!

Some contact info:

Wattpad: ThinWhiteWalrus
Discord: QueenHolmes #7798
Instagram: @shannon.potato

This is a collection of One Shots!
Looking for writing prompts, so send them in!
I will write your prompt free of charge! 

Also will fill this book in with my own stories ;)

Madali lang naman ng gagawin ko, papahabain ko lang ang outline para sa kabanata isa pero wala akong ibang nakikita sa screen ng cellphone ko kundi:
PUTANG INAAAAA!!! WALA AKONG MAILAGAY DITOOOO!!! PAKING SHEEEETTTT!!
Simple lang talaga, ipapakilala ko ang Heroine kung ano siya, kung ano ang initial approach niya sa problema, ugali at iba pa. Kaunti lang naman at hindi parang autobiography na ilalatag na agad. Pero… TAENA TALAGA!! ANG TIGAS DI KO MA-STRETCH!!
Sumisigaw na naman sa isipan ko ang mga katagang: "Ano, susuko ka na? Sumuko ka na!"
Sa inis ko, in-exit ko na ang app, humila't pumikit. Hindi ko alam kung ilang minuto kong pinapakalma ang sarili ko bago ko muling dinampot ang cellphone ko at nagbukas na naman ng panibagong app.
Tinignan ko kung may nag-comment sa post ko kahapon, wala kundi isang like lang. Medyo bumangon na naman ang inis ko, the hell, gusto kong i-mention ang taon iyon at sabihing, "Anong gagawin ko sa like mo? Gagawin kong prompt?!"
Pero hindi ko iyon ginawa syempre, nasa katinuan pa ako. Tinatamad lang naman akong gumawa ng panibagong Tumblr account para maghagilap ng writing prompts kaya ako nag-post ng "Suggest a writing prompt please." Buti na lang may nakita akong Facebook page na nagbibigay ng exercises.
Habang naghahanap ako ng prompts na interisado, agad ng tumatakbo ang isipan ko sa mga short stories na gagawin ko. Hanggang sa nakakadama ako ng excitement, katulad noong unang beses akong nagsulat para sa publiko.
Bigla akong nakaramdam ng matinding relief, yung tipong naiiri mo na yung napakalaking tae na hindi mo mailabas-labas. Muli kong pinaalalahanan ang sarili ko na hindi ko na gagawin ang mga pagkakamali ko noon.
Hindi na ako magmamadali para matapos ang istorya basta maganda ang kakalabasan. Isa sa mga araw na ito, opisyal na akong magbabalik sa pagsusulat pero sa ngayon, writing prompts muna para hindi na ako kalawangin. Hehe, I'm so excited gumawa ng Me and My OC theme!
 
###
Prompt: You actually write something instead of just reading the prompts.
Theme: Story of My Life

Writing prompts na kinopya ko sa Tumblr. Minsan may sense, madalas wala.

Naglalaman ng mga spoiler tungkol sa mga nobela ko. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

* * *

DISCLAIMER:
Names, characters, places and incidents are either product of author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events, and locals is entirely coincidental.

NOTE:
This story may contain strange or twisted ideas, words and scenes that do not suit your preferences as a reader. The characters do not personally reflect exactly what the writer is. It is advisable to read it with caution.

No part of this story may be translated into other languages, printed, copied or reproduced multiply without the written permission of the writer.

On watt pad... i will be uploading a different novel! Im not interested with the idea that i had with this one... so i will also upload it here! It will be: *drum roll please* "paper and quill"! I will find interesting story prompts from tumblr writing prompt blogs and writing-prompts from instagram! I probably won't post much... but it might be interesting! Im still a noob at writing so I don't think it will be great, but you might enjoy my ideas

I sighed as I read the reviews being posted on my novel, I hovered my mouse and click on my profile to see any improvements.  Seeing the number of people removing my book from their library and the reading stats of my book went down, all of my books weren't good enough to be noticed by everyone. If not noticed, they aren't good enough to read.
 
This gives me more low motivation. 
 
 As an underrated writer, I knew that I can't force anyone to like my books. I want to be known by the people that I write great stories. I went back to my home page and saw the ranking of writers, how nice it to be on top one. I rest my hand under my chin, looking at my profile. 
 
 A low-ranking writer like me that has fewer views, comments is impossible for me to notice by thousand novels in this writing community I joined in especially.. all of them are talented. 
 
 
I stood up from my seat and headed outside and took a deep breath. The wind gently rustles the trees and few cars beeped on the road and subtle chatters of students that passed by my apartment are heard, I rested my elbow on the railings of my balcony and looked at them.
 
 Dreaming to be a known top writer is impossible to me, I tried to make and come up with interesting stories but all of its stats, views are down.   I went back inside, heading to my laptop to shut it down. I went to my living room, few empty cups of noodles are piled on the side of the table, papers scattered all over the place. 
 
 I glanced down and picked a paper. It reads, "WIP BOOKS and WRITING PROMPTS" 
 
 WIP BOOKS: 
 -UNSOLVED CASE: FELICIA
 -CONSPIRE WITH THE DEMON BEAST
 -THE MISADVENTURE OF ALEXANDER HUGHES 
 
 
WRITING PROMPTS: 
 -School Idol Girl Died because she is annoying to her crush
 -House For Rent's payment: Souls
 -Scaredy-cat male protagonist is inside the book he is reading. 
 -trapped in a world that has a lot of phobias. 
I scoff and shake my head, a bit disappointed with the writing prompts I made and my WIP books. All of them aren't good enough for my readers. No one likes them. Even the reviews they gave are 2. Some are 5/5 but I knew they didn't read it and just skipped the chapters.
 
 
 I gathered all my papers and piled them up, I put them on under my mini table. I grabbed my phone and put the paper under the mini table. Creativity and my words aren't good today, I don't want to make half-baked chapters. 
 
 Playing games, watching some shows on the television could make my mind relax and not let myself stress about writing. 
 
 "This player is smart, playing this game. Having tactics, huh?" I said as I'm multiply beaten with another player on the game. 
 
 Tactics...Player... 
 
 I quickly got up, went to my room and opened my laptop. I opened a new document and started to type on my laptop and a smile tugs on my face. 
  
 From the novels I've read, it's always smart players in a game.
 How about... I put it as me. I'm a smart writer that is experienced and known to be a top writer in a writing community and the writer wrote writing prompt about writing a story that could have an impossible ending or.. an endless ending. 

That would be the gist of the plot.. but I'll make a few changes. 
 
 I stopped on thought and looked at the calendar. When a writer wants inspiration to write, it says to work somewhere other than writing space. It would help the writer to have creative words in mind. 

I looked back to my laptop and started to type. 

BOOK TITLE: A Writer's Deadline.

"Write before the deadline or lose a life span" that's what Shane Hiroki thinks. Being a top writer is what Shane Hiroki wants to be known for. After receiving a notification from The Scripturient's League, Shane joined and become a member of low-rank writers. 

Shane and his team compete with other talented writers with their daily quest where they have to meet its requirement and deadline or else the members of the team would  lose a life span and lose its points. 

Will Shane survive the competitions and become a top writer? 

This book is highly related to writers. The book includes racing word counts, timed- word mini games, and etc. Just a reader? Read this and you'll know the struggles of being a writer and who knows.. Because of this book, you want to be a writer.. or not.

I HATE POETRY

Or rather, I hate how we're supposed to do poetry. Like a lab rat, structured and naive. Writing about things we don't even fully understand ourselves. Oh, what hypocrisy. I don't even fully understand why I'm writing this right now, with a movie playing in the background trying to drown my problems with distractions. Such sweet distractions. But that's another story. 

Now, where were we? Ah yes! Poetry.

Well, think about it, how do you see poetry? Nay, what do you see when you hear the word poetry? I'd bet a hundred dollars (No, not really) that the image in your mind goes a lot like this; a structured composition of rhyming words formed in couplets or quatrains or whatever it is you prefer, a few mismatched words found from the deepest parts of the dictionary- thesaurus, whatever. 

It doesn't matter. 

The point is, they're all the same. All those words and rhymes and rhythm are all the same. It may be from different writers, from different experiences, emotions and all that bull-trap, (sorry, I'm trying to minimize my curses) people spin from nowhere just to tell themselves; "Hey, this is unique." or, "Hey, this is different", "This is original.", "This is mine." Well sorry to burst your bubble, but none of it is true.

There is nothing unique in this world, nor is it ever going to be different nor will it ever be yours. 

None of it is yours. 

Let's face it, people write poetry for what? Leisure? Personal use? Ha! That's the lamest excuse I've ever heard, personal use. Whatcha gonna use it on? Some kind of reference? An autobiography? Like anyone is going to care. No one ever cares unless you're already dead or dying or famous. I think I might have accidentally quoted someone on that. 

Point is, there is no point. 

In living. In dying. And on anything in between.

And that's why we write; to be heard, to leave a mark. To try to be someone unique, someone inspiring. Or to be famous, whatever floats your boat. But in the end, what we really want... is to matter. May it be to a whole bunch of strangers applauding and asking for autographs, or to just one person that went out of the noose because of your work. 

Because of you. 

And I think that's enough to hold on. To keep on writing. Till my last breath.

(But I still hate poetry) 

Eyang Ireng Wesi looked at his student who asked, then answered,
"Poetry will help us give tenderness to the hardness of heart. Poetry will enable you to think deeply about the meaning of life. Poetry will also hone your human side and teach that every problem is not always handled in a violent way.
Poetry will also teach you how to fight evil through writing. When we are not able to fight physically, we will fight through poetry and poetry. "Said Eyang Ireng Wesi in an explanation. His students then nodded in agreement.
And suddenly Arya said, "Now friends, it becomes clear, when you are fighting and then you lose, immediately read poetry to our enemies so that our enemies will lose," Arya said immediately to the giggling of his friends.
Eyang Ireng Wesi immediately patted his forehead hard, very annoyed at Arya. He knew Arya was talking nonsense.
"Shut your mouth Arya! You keep joking. When can you be serious?" Said Eyang Ireng Wesi until he wanted to hit Arya's panties with sandals because he was so annoyed.
"I'm sorry Teacher .." said Arya with a tone of regret.
"Come on quickly read a poem straight from your brain!" Said the teacher.
"Alright teacher .. immediately do it," said Arya with enthusiasm.
Arya then stood proudly, his handsome face looked charming to anyone who looked at him. Her hair which was tied up in white ropes was black and long and wavy like the hair of a girl. Eyang Ireng Wesi who raised the young man by himself. He knew exactly how this handsome young man was acting so silly.
Even though he himself is not a very kind-hearted person but he is powerless against the silliness of his adopted son. Besides his natural abilities that were beyond the capabilities of ordinary people. He also seemed to find something strange in the young man.
Since childhood, Arya has been used to talking to ghosts and demons who are coming to the human realm more and more. Eyang Ireng Wesi knows that Arya is not just anyone. Her ability to communicate with demons who should live in different dimensions from humans will make Arya enter and mingle in a stealth life that should indeed live separately from humans.
Arya's abilities must be used against the demons who often interfere with human life. They often come to the human realm to take them to the realm and make humans their servants. Or they sometimes kill humans and eat them like tigers preying on deer.
Eyang Ireng Wesi's hope is that Arya can match his physical abilities with a softer heart and good character. That is why He taught his students how to make poetry to balance their martial arts skills. Fortunately, Arya is indeed a very smart child. He can make poetry as well as mastering the science of martial art.
The other students seemed to be watching Arya who was preparing to write poetry as well as recite it.
Night
Dark, dark, gloom, pitch-black
The darkness of the night does not darken my heart
The gloom of the night does not make my eyes dark
when the darkness of the night penetrates my heart
I only find darkness inside of me


Night
Silent, lonely, lonely, dead
The silence of the wind
The natural silence of the clink
The lonely forces me to get up
I don't want to get buried and die
***
Arya seemed to read aloud his poetry which made his friends gasp. How could he behind his ridiculous attitude be able to make such beautiful poetry? Applause and cries of admiration immediately sounded bustling in the room. And Eyang Ireng Wesi nodded his head in satisfaction.
"Well ... you heard the poem. Now before you write it on palm leaves, can anyone interpret the meaning of the poem?" Said Eyang Ireng Wesi to ask his students. All the students were suddenly mute and pretended to be busy writing palm leaves with small sharp knives. Some were seen rubbing their writing with hazelnut oil.
Arya grinned when he saw his friends who were suddenly busy. And he again wanted to be fun. He immediately moved his hand towards Jaka and without realizing it by Jaka, his right hand suddenly rose.
"Well .. Jaka, you can interpret Arya's poetry .. it's very good" said Eyang Ireng Wesi happily. Jaka just glared with his mouth wide open. How could the hand that was writing suddenly lifted up? All eyes then looked towards him seriously.
Suddenly Jaka wanted to pee because he was so shocked. But seeing his teacher staring intently, he didn't dare to refuse so he stuttered to answer his teacher's question.
"Na... naight..that night .. usually very dark..so dark it makes people want to die .." He said, making his friends laugh.
"SHEAM !! You guys know it's just kidding" Eyang Ireng Wesi was getting angry.
"Finish this task, when it's finished immediately get out of the Padepokan and run around this hermitage as much as 20 rounds," said Eyang Ireng Wesi as he left the room.
Their laughter stopped, including Arya's laughter. This Padepokan is very wide because there are rice fields, ponds, and fields for practice. Running around as much as 20 circles by crossing large trees, rocks and river flow that crosses behind the hermitage makes running around this hermitage is not as easy as turning your palm.
"This is all because of you," Koswara said irritably to Arya. He raised a knife to write the palm leaves towards Arya. Arya was silent this time. He felt guilty to his friends. He then stood up and said,
"Yes, I was wrong, I'm sorry. I will go to the teacher and apologize to him. I will ask for your punishment to be canceled" said Arya as she then sped away leaving the room towards Grandma Ireng Wesi.
He found his teacher standing staring at the lush trees behind the forest at the foot of Mount Salak. Arya approached his teacher slowly. Hearing approaching footsteps without turning his head, the teacher said,
'What do you want? "The teacher said in a flat tone.
"I want to apologize, Teacher," said Arya to his teacher.
"Why should you apologize?" The teacher said.
"I was the one who made Jaka raise his hand" said Arya feeling very sorry.
"I was expecting it. It's good if you're sorry"
"Then Teacher, may I ask that the punishment for my friends be canceled? And let me receive the punishment myself," said Arya making his teacher look away and then said,
"Then run 40 rounds"
"40 times?" Arya gasped
"Then tell your friends to carry out the punishment earlier"
"No ... not teacher. Let me receive the punishment" said Arya as he then sped away and started running around the hermitage.

Eyes of Arya wider when he sees the adorable view in front of him. Beautiful face, green eyes,  brown hair, the yellow skin, glowing, shining, and sparkling in the evening sun.

And which made admired of Arya is the body of that woman. She doesn't have a body like a human being. She doesn't have hand dan legs. It's like a long body. Her face was so cold with an extremely angry look. She was annoyed by Arya when She was taking a bath.

The snake girl suddenly moved her tail and hit Arya's body strongly. Arya dodged and jumped lightly. Instead, he lunged and held the beautiful face and kissed her lips gently and quickly. Then run away and jump to the top of the tree laughing. Not long after, the snake girl roared with anger.
"You devil !!" She shouted.

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