The Naivety of a Poet

By Alin Sengjaroen

Thus spoke the devil:

Why do you keep pushing on regardless of rejections?

A condescending question. I think it could be phrased better.

Why do you keep writing? …

The Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinci,

one of my favorite paintings ever.

Thus asked the devil with a genuine tang:

Do you know that this path will be a solitary one?

A nod.

And you are ready to accept it with glee?

A hesitant pause.

Thus laughed the devil:

You complex poets... Writing like a paralyzed wasp in a moving colony, like a mammal’s limb

reaching to touch the Sun, like a … like a humanoid animal you are.

Devil, there’s nothing left. The path of a writer, a poet—I’ve always longed for. I won’t be

lonely for I have a pen. My letters carry ink from the ghosts of the past and I must finish the

ultimate story of humanity—witness their rises, their downfalls, and until their destruction, my

soul will haunt the Earthly narrative.

Why do I write you ask, my devil—my doubt? I don’t intend to publish a grand book, earn

myself great currency—enough to buy myself a rocket and etch my name into time itself. Neither

do I intend to cater to the audience of lowly animals or almighty lords alike. Neither do I intend

to move forward in the name of self-indulgence.

My true reason? I don’t know.

…

That is the simple, naive answer. I write because my hands need to, even when sometimes I don’t

desire to. Not out of self-righteousness, not out of elitism that I’m able to grasp humanity (I think

it’s quite impossible to do so), not out of will. These hands were never made for war, it was

blessed (or rather cursed) to only be enough to wield a pen.

In the human world, everything changes and is ruled by currency. Writers—such naive ones like

you—will become anachronistic ghosts of literature, oblivious ones that won’t move on from the

past they never experienced. You are walking down a path you will regret.

This journey won’t necessarily be fun nor will it be an easy departure. Novels, literary

magazines, brochures… they won’t live to see Doom’s Day, but that day isn’t today, neither was

it yesterday, so I will keep striding forward. Why care for a future that isn’t promised to come?

How will we know that the Sun will again rise from the east?

It’s not you or the other Devils that are the enemies of humanity—it is ourselves because you too

are a part of me.

Thus concluded the Devil with a heaved sigh:

…Very well, you shall continue to live with humanoid selfishness and a self-proclaimed un-

righteousness.

So long as you permit me the right to create, I will linger on endlessly.

End.

…

This is me Alin Sengjaroen speaking, not the Devil, not any other characters. I’m very happy that

all of you gave me the opportunity to showcase my silly stories and anecdotes in this magazine. I

still remember feeling down over getting a rejection from SMR around 2023… Now, it’s the end

and it’s time to move on to something new.

It was a pleasure to work with everyone, and you, my ghost reader… I hope you enjoy my crazed

ramblings and the chatterings of suspiciously self-inserted protagonists. If you’d love to read

more of my works, check out my instagram @cl3fleur.

Thank you, Spiritus Mundi Team.