About

I wish I have a hundred secrets to tell you, to whisper into your ear… but I have no secrets to tell. I have a part of myself somewhere that I myself have forgotten. It is hard to map out the veins and nerves of emotions and intellect that have kept me alive and thinking today. I have no in-between, no smudges, no blemishes worth mentioning when I assume that is how the real world is like. I am so, so idealistic. Chocolate hazelnut is a mosicum of my constant cravings for this unspeakable realm that can easily tame my fury. When the world is enveloped in a flurry of black and white and grey, I will like my own space to be unguarded, untainted, to let the “world offer itself to [my] and your imagination”-we will  dream of chocolate hazelnut, of cherries and strawberries, of sunrise and moonlight, take in the cream-and-peaches waft of the baby johnson’s lingering on little children and the odd yet beautiful, archaic scent of the elderly, whom you know have a thousand more secrets to share…

To some, that is self-deception. To me, it is hope.

Take my hand, and  we will walk into the bubble world, our collective psyche.

(why are you-what are you so afraid of?)