The typewriter clicks and imprints marks
Continuously it pushes black into white
Forcefully yet gently
As it presses down the next phrase
So does the weight of the reality slide away
The small period mark is enough to veil the depth of words
When the jet-black ink runs out and no more words come alive
The writer embraces the typewriter and tears slowly drip down
Seeping down into the typewriter
Refilling and becoming one with ink
For the writer this machine is the air to breathe
It is only when his fingers run across the surface
that the soul of the poor man comes to rest
‘Man-made machine redeeming its creator!’
The writer scoffs yet unable to part themselves
The typewriter again clicks and imprints marks
Continuously pushing black into white
And there the unceasing cycle goes on
Aden Lim is a sophomore majoring in Illustration at the School of Visual Arts." I love to spend my day listening to music," Aden writes, "and sunset is my favorite time of the day!"