Swallowed (Shift) “Look at yourself with other people’s eyes… Day by day, my body has transformed into like everyone else… Harmonious and swallowed up…” Siamrath

Feather pen / Surname Boonyathat

“The cultural way of coexistence of today’s world It creates a multitude of reactions that are so intertwined that it is difficult to separate… It is so subtle and reverberating that the origin of the universe in the context of consciousness is almost impossible to find. Finally, it turns out to be a subset of the changes and changes that can’t find a source that is truly equilibrium (Shift)… all things of the story in every life today, so it’s mixed with flavor. of bitter, trembling, and confusing emotions that mingled with the viscous self that was repeatedly entangled in the inner persecution thread. It is an open eye that is blinded by a bare, piercing mission, but unable to touch the structure of truth. in the sins until…for eternity..”

This is the centrifugal force of creativity surging deep with its literary roots. In poetry and short stories “Bannathorn” award by the Writers’ Association of Thailand and .. the Safe and Creative Media Development Fund that has supported the publication … on the 50th anniversary of the Writers’ Association of Thailand … under the name … “Swallowing” (Shift)..which originates from the meaning of the name of the poem without prosody in learning and recognizing the phenomenon of feelings manifested by … a young poet.. “Samiyo”

“Day by day… I started to inflate like a gas-filled balloon. My body is beautiful from the eyes of others…/ My “skin” starts to change according to my surroundings/Then..I start to look like that person. This person../legs that can move by themselves wobbly/ … my Pinocchio-like elongated “nose”/Started by looking at myself. With the eyes of others/.. counting the days, me, my body, my organs/mute like everyone else, blend in and swallow….”

The state of “swallowing” begins quietly as if unconsciously…crawling to devour the inner flesh of life. With the unkind mouth of being…depressed and gloomy in a profound way, but like a scrambling way to beg for hope…it is a muse of calamity. that reached out with a strong hand dominate the survival…

The state of chaos seems to be wrapped around… It fades and disappears with the fading movement of the world. It’s hard to find any definitions…having is like not having…not being is. In the light trail of music that is strangely missing an important note…In the poem “Um” of “Jidanan Lueangpiensamut”, a writer of SEA Write. ….a person who looks at the life of the world at the present time The frustration that provokes that turmoil..

“Crippled and missing/Like the music pauses at some point/Some notes are missing/Silence tells a lot/In one second of silence/The souls of the lost are screaming/.. ..Cracked and missing/Like a page of a book/Which suddenly became blank/Content that should have been known doesn’t exist/Page clean white/What story was lost/…They forbid. We speak the truth once more/because it might frighten many/make people’s chairs shake/be unable to sit any more/some truths have been removed from society/people who tell the truth Silently vanished/Like erased by an eraser”….many people disappear without anyone knowing…/Like a drop of water evaporated by heat/We live in a country hiding the truth. /Which story has been lost?/How many corpses have yet to be discovered?”

We are always caught up in an unfamiliar night for the living instinct. of sorrow It’s a war following war. …It’s the context of a supposedly beautiful dreamscape being bombarded by a deadly bullet from a gloomy heart…death floats in front of it…like a strange miracle dyed by the eruption of the world. Lost….feel of love….

“There is no “peace” that they say…/All great discourses/Humanitarian bombardment/How many lives remain silent? Battlefield/…Are you still hesitating?/The mattress must be laid on the corpse,/Drinking milk with blood. and fall in love/to join another corpse-last night/…with all your heart Dear child/If you are ready to know the “world” here/Be patient a little longer, good person/May the wind blow that mother has-the last wind/Are you sure?/The price of life is cheap. pointless/but it’s a “birth” in death/and a “hope” in a “collapse” in our world…”

The poem “Even if it is not a familiar night.” This award-winning poem…is the meaning of manifestation to the theater of the world. that turns on the display of the partially displayed image. It was deformed with scars. and an emotionally ripped connotation that is hard to piece together… as a picture of a future obscured and blocked by a mass of prejudice trash expressed through the ignorance of true consciousness…

If today…when the world is like this…so what exactly are we in our humanity attitude..or have we all been smashed and destroyed our supposed self.. .No traces left Or the meaning of our roots has flown away and disappeared with the decay of a stranger… “Charoonporn Prapakpralai”, an important literary critic… has considered it in the poem. His “Reborn in a Wonder City” was extremely thoughtful…

“Your body crumbles into piles of mortar/People unite to smash the past/Tomb the remains of history/Make things always fresh/No one knows the future/Only promises in the dust of PM2.5/That You’ll be prettier/and make more money/Lime will turn into gold…just like the things in this magical city…/We’ll see each other soon/But I’m sorry. If I don’t remember you../The world has changed so quickly/Like all of us/We are forced to transform/Remove our souls/The past is worthless/Returned…/”

We are all what we are… even if we don’t want, we have to contain a fragment of a very strange feeling in our body. It was filled with contradictions. But no matter how disgusting and wanting to avoid it..that thing of hatred expands into…the battlefield of truth, more and more in every dimension while…that is, the raging flame of conscience. Knowing of the spirit that is difficult to prevent.. by any means…

“The only soul catcher in the community He himself was not very pleased with this work. but because there is no other choice The souls of those who died of wrath and a rotten pale figure Still less scary than hunger Without a stick for a long time, it may end your life like that. If you want to live on, you have to swallow your fear. comfort oneself There are deaths equal to money for life.”

life that is the only life of “Soul Catchers” become a pitfall of the role of life that engulfs the whole life as a tidbit of survival for a lifetime… Silence in perception. But it resonated in the cold course of action.

..Substance of a short story “Soul Catcher”, the award-winning short story “Bannathorn”, this time of “Roman Kamonnawin”…representing the apparent darkness in a changing era. It is the drowning of events that have happened. suffering from the wide world It is a crisis that occurs to human beings both physically and mentally.. which all lead the spiritual structure of being on this earth of living beings to become dark and blurry… as a representation of the image by A collection of 48 short stories “Bannathorn” .. is a touch of the traumatic heart of people in this era. where the dignity of life was crushed.. even the spiritual self was repeatedly persecuted and abandoned..

“This incident .. makes me question the faith of man.” The heartbreaking question, the deep question of the short story. “Inthon”…continues to my mind when I read all 48 short stories. This story ends once more/it’s all over, including 48 more poems that I have already mentioned in part..beside plant..

The power of all perceptions in composition All conveyed through the pure will of each writer. …is the infinite meaning of the “hidden world” that has been formed To step forward into the future with hope..!

Out of 904 short stories and 763 poems..a total of 1667 stories…it’s all the flesh and blood in the core of the picture appearing on the stage of life drama. that aims to represent… the struggle of survival.. is the sum of the soul of the soul at a moment that the world must memorize and record…!

“Counting the days… My “ears” are enlarged like a speaker/ the third and fourth “eyes”/sprout on my forehead/Give your gaze. including staring/”mouth” that is wider than wide/moving all the time/forwarding the words that hit the ears/keeping bursting into laughter…./with fun/”

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