Can We Create Something Beautiful Novels & Stories

I look at her bare face and I am quiet encouraged by just how beautiful she is without make-up, my hands are still around her waist, and oh what joy I feel as I look at her, I have to be real with myself though, she’s one of the best thing that has ever happened to me. I begin rubbing her waist, drawing circles and just trying to store everything into my memory space. Because each time I look at her there’s this feeling that rises up inside of me, like a part of me comes alive, I know it’s not love, but I won’t be surprised if it becomes that.

"Noah?" "Mmm?" He mumbled. "Nature is so complex and beautiful. Do you think the human's God is real? That he really created everything?" "Yes." He said straight away. I looked up at him, "Why?" "Because no single celled organism could have created a view as beautiful as you."

“well, first we have the Creator, God, Abba. He did all this. The skies, the stars, the birds. The trees. He did all the beauty we see. Its hard to not see creation and not see the creator, its hard to not think of Love, when you realise he gave all this beauty to us as an act of Love, his Love. And when you Love, you want to be with the beloved. He is with us in creation.” “That's very Beautiful, Bryan” “He is.” “He is.” she repeated, and nearly wept.

admiring it feels wrong. Gazing at this ethereal view makes me think, why is such a beautiful art created by God filled with filthy, atrocious people? We don't deserve such creation, and I don't deserve to stand here cherishing its beauty if I can't even grant my parent's last wi-... my parents... That's shocking. I widened my eyes out of surprise. This view is so spectacular it made me forget about them for a minute.

Majestic trees stood tall and proud, their branches extending like outstretched arms, providing shelter and solace to all who sought refuge beneath their verdant canopies. As the day unfolded, Stardust became a tapestry of life's rich tapestry. The aroma of freshly baked bread mingled with the melodies of street musicians, creating a sensory symphony that enraptured the senses. Artists, inspired by the world around them, captured its essence on canvases, immortalizing moments of beauty and grace.

Maybe for normal people it was just a distinctive night sky filled with a myriad of stars blinking endlessly, but for me, it's like a painting painted by the greatest painter of all time, God. It was a wonderful creation that is created to let us stare at their natural beauty and just dream about some of the things that we want in life. It may not be wonderful enough to repair our poor broken hearts but it was sure wonderful enough to captivate our drive to try and find someone who can pick the pieces up and mend it.

A haunting echo. Every creative act in the Cage, from now on, will be touched by it. Every song, every story, every forged nail will carry a whisper of that beautiful, parasitic sadness. We have saved Arthur. But we have poisoned the very act of creation. Our victory, like all our victories, is stained.

But as Thomas and Emily stood in the gallery, reflecting on their journey, they felt a longing for one final artistic endeavor that would transcend time and space—an endeavor that would encapsulate the vastness of their love and the interconnectedness of all things. They envisioned a grand mural—a masterpiece that would stretch across the walls of the gallery, depicting the myriad facets of love and the intricate tapestry of life. They wanted to create a visual symphony, a mural that would evoke emotions, ignite imaginations, and serve as a testament to the beauty of the human experience.

"I broke the world to save you." "And now you're painting it back together." Cale looked at his hands. They were stained blue and grey. "I am messy," Cale said. "You're an artist." "Can I be both?" "Most artists are." "Elion?" "Yeah?" "The money," Cale said. "The paycheck." "What about it?" "I want to buy the desk. Today." "We can wait." "No," Cale said. "Creativity requires infrastructure. You need a workstation." "You just want me to stop writing on the floor."

I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in all my life. “Where did you find this?” I whisper in awe, barely able to believe something so beautiful could be real. “I didn’t. I created it,” he says proudly. I look up at him in shock. “You what?!” I shriek. “What do you mean you created it?”