Tag: microessay

Microessay

Microessay.

Microessay: Genre of writing, belonging to essay yet which can and must present literaty characteristics; very brief, and which, without providing arguments, expresses an idea, emotion, thought… Leading the reader into further thinking.

That’s the definition.

Which was “destroyed” (sic), from Wikipedia.

I stay still that I have created this genre of writing, being the first collection of them, Told on One Page.

And the last one, The THEIST MANIFESTO.

Theist Manifesto: Page 50

You have to find a reason.

One that will make your boat float.

And this is mine:

Each hour, each minute, second;

Each very second,

This world is a little bit more interconnected:

Someone just learnt a word in another language.

Everybody. Everybody keeps on reading faster.

Written languege. It isn’t natural.

Written languege isn’t natural.

We are internalizing it.

Each of us. At each second.

You have to find a reason.

A reason to find hope.

And this is mine.

Theist Manifesto: Page 47

Vanitas vanitatum (emptiness of emptiness)

And you are just fulfilled. Lying on the bed or on tve cauch.

Sitting. Walking. On your own or with others. Fulfilness.

Something that dies,

To be filled one day. Be it with cigarretes, and another one, an another one… Alcohol. Cannabis or pills.

To buy clothes or technology. To buy. To buy.

If you have bad luck, you may end up using cocaine or heroin.

A gap. A hole. Nothingness.

It doesn’t fill, it doesn’t fill…

Because you understand life as a flame, something that burns you.

A disgusting burnout from cradle to grave…

Sure they say if you have money this just rocks.

Theist Manifesto: Page 46

A pessimistic

Is someone realistic who happens to be well informed. To feel anything but protected.

Anything but loved.

A flower of Datura, you grew in a wasteland.

A flower of Datura. You’ll endure any draught. Nothing for beginners.

How easy is self-deceit. To negate the deepest of yourself: Any of the sweetest fruits.

Honey of orange blossom itself. For life is a garden.

You grow the good things, toss the bad ones.

And if you can’t harvest from nothingness:

You plant hope in a fallow that now you know transitory.