NAME: Den Soragoto
PEN NAME: Noman Nihil
ORGANIZATION: N/A
JOB: Artist
AGE: 23

MUN: Shoji
EMAIL: veer.through.trees -@- gmail.com
AIM: swall0wtale

please could you stay awhile to share my grief
for it's such a lovely day
to have to always feel this way
and the time that I will suffer less
is when I never have to wake

wandering stars for whom it is reserved
the blackness of darkness forever
wandering stars for whom it is reserved
the blackness of darkness forever

those who have seen the needles eye now tread
like a husk, from which all that was now has fled
and the masks that the monsters wear
to feed upon their prey

wandering stars for whom it is reserved
the blackness of darkness forever
wandering stars for whom it is reserved
the blackness of darkness forever

[ wandering star . portishead ]

ha ha ha. fucking funny. why don't you tell me what i look like, because your eyes will sure as hell be fuckin' better than mine.

( 5'9". 132 pounds.
Used to be shockingly blonde.
Is now boringly, darkly natural
since he can't see
to handle the bleach
or to fuss about style
or to decide that it defines his bone structure better
or to bitch about how being an artist is all image these days
or care

really.

Dark eyes that are still intense,
even when useless.
Sallow skin, gaunt features,
starving artist,
full of inappropriate behaviour,

even when supposedly useless.)

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h.

no one cares to hear the real story,
so this is the story of noman nihil,
the person i pretend i'm not.

noman nihil was born of the residential bombings of 2015 that the government added to the anankai's nice little roster of bastard bombings-- i'm not completely convinced, but hey, what the government says goes and it's all gonna be okay. he began his infancy in the beginning phases of his host's denial, when he judged by memory the distance between the bed, the door, and the place where he kept his shoes. every breakfast burnt was a tooth he grew, every unexpected collision was a year to his age.

every accident,
every hospital trip,
every failed painting,
every pretty girl unnoticed,
every blank stare,
every unsalvagable mishap,
every book unread,
every
night
the
streetlights
on
his
ceiling
got
dimmer
and
dimmer
until

aged eight months and seven days, twenty-one hours and thirty-six minutes,
noman nihil reached adulthood with the complete loss of den soragoto's eyesight.

he learned to make do with the corners of the bristol under his fingertips
and a muscle memory refined to every point between pen and vellum,
but when it comes down to it,

drawing what's in your head
without your eyes
just isn't the fucking same.

(born in japan,
raised in toronto,
5 years in new york.

12 books and collections published,
7 since he lost his sight.

interviews,
interviews,
interviews,
featuring all of the exact same questions.

he hates it,
but chooses to do absolutely nothing about it.)

[+] art
[+] stories
[+] politics
[+/-] jaded philisophical debate
[+/-] harsh
[+/-] honest
[-] short-tempered
[-] vicious
[-] weak
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind
[-] blind

...and not getting it back.