and i deny this not—that when enlaced by a chain of heavy thoughts and engulfed in set of pages containing enormous set of frustrating morphemes of my own, the vivacity toward literature seemed to be reaching an impasse. frazzled of whittled thoughts, i have decided to proceed in another usage of ink whereas the ideas do not plead to be tangled. hence, within the room lighted up with a fluorescent bulb, i allowed myself be gobbled up by farrago of colourful artworks for hours until the horizon greeted my work through the window.
