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Though we are often regarded as cold and rational beings, I am certain that we are capable of creating beautiful works of art. Personally, my drawings are sufficiently terrible as to be worthy of contempt, however I feel I am capable of expressing myself to a considerable degree through writing. Are there any other NTs who indulge in catharsis via the aforementioned expressive medium? Feel free to post your poetry/short stories, by the way; I'm not particularly judgemental. In fact, I'll break the ice:

Reflections of the Sea

The skies cast their reflections upon the sea. A vast, blue expanse stretches across the horizon, its surface tinged in moonlight. Enrobed in silver hues, a crystalline film covers the expanse. Shadows of stars appear upon the ocean’s surface; their lights quiver amidst the tides, and the heavens vibrate in the sea's undulations. The tides are incredibly serene tonight; and all movement within the water is seemingly birthed only by rain falling gently onto its surface. A beautiful reflection of the world has been cast before me.

I had been resting amidst the shores since the break of morrow. Today, time seemed brief, and darkness quickly engulfed the sun. Figures had come and gone. Couples, children, families, and merchants oft came by the shore to indulge in its beauty. None of these figures stayed. As sunlight sorrowfully crept away towards nightfall, the clouds grew pallid and wan. In an elegant union the lights and the clouds drifted towards the rose-lit sunset, and I was alone. A soothing calm arose from my solitude.

Cold drops of rain fell gently upon the desolate shores. The heavens let their tears fall upon me; they were insufferably cold to the touch and in their caress I noted a vague, yet perceptible sense of pity. In brief, intense flashes the rain created within me a consuming loneliness. The air was of solace; perfumed with the faint sensation of roses, the wintry zephyrs wafted a soft incense across the shores. Faintly, this lifted my spirits.

Now I lie before a sea of reflections, and these shall fade for the nature of the immaterial is brief. Time is enshrouded in uncertainties. It has been cruel, unforgiving and ephemeral - a mist which disappears and reappears into existence. Yet oft, it is warm, compassionate, enduring, and vivid.

I faintly remember the images which had adorned the seas earlier today. Bedight in golden hues, and pale patches of white slowly drifting into the depths of the horizon, these skies also cast reflections upon the waters; however, they were different. They did not evoke hope, or beauty.

Though the skies were calm, a tempest was born from the waves, which seemed to roar in torment. A frightening sincerity was forged from the ferocity of the waves, as though they seemed to manifest the world's sorrow in their great undulations.

The serenity of the sea cast before me, at present, is in my perceptions, a lie, illusory in nature. Perhaps the world was once a more sincere place; now, it is an endless array of deceptions.

She was, perhaps, the saddest of all lies. Once, in the still of the night, when loneliness consumed my soul, and the soft incense wafted across the shores, she appeared before me, seemingly carried by the winds. Her existence was sorrowfully fragile -- so beautifully fragile. A lovely, pale countenance was sustained by her ethereal body. In her presence, the dolour was lifted from my spirit, and the loneliness was replaced by warmth.

We did not exchange words, yet, together we watched the sea's reflections slowly fade away; and perhaps we were saddened by the brevity of it all, the stars, the moon, the rain, the skies, the incense, the wintry zephyrs. Perhaps, we were saddened by all of it...

My perception of time was dulled in her presence, and I noted not the morrows that passed. One day, she too vanished from my life, and solitude slowly replaced the warmth in my soul.

Years have passed since those days, and I have confined my existence to the shores, the reflections, the moon, the stars, the lies. There is solace in all these things. I sorrowfully await the day, that I too shall vanish and be reunited with her, in the depths of the sounding sea (in the heavens, which quiver amidst the tides of the sorrowful, illusory sea)...
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