i dunno why, i feel very happy suddenly.
just,
happy.
and
perhaps
relieved.

nice night with dear gloria mok
we had ‘little pot rice’ again in Temple street
oh i loved it, it’s already the second time in two weeks
im out of my mind. dude. lol
and then, ‘elder brother sweet soup’
my first order was stale and sour but i swallowed a big spoon of it.
unknowingly.
oh, unlucky. hope my body is healthy enough to kill the germs.
and oh, actually i brought my DC just for u
but then i forgot to take any fotos =.=”
actually we can watch film together lei
after 5 is ok la
i love broadway cinematheque
damn! the book i wanted to buy the other day
was sold, YESTERDAY!!!!
oh my god why u even let me know..><
it was half price. but even so i thought it was expensive!!!
and when i’ve made up my mind, it was sold.
i need a time machine…
oh, no, a cash machine.

People cast doubts on the real identity of Shakespeare. Always. Why don’t we just let ‘Shakepeare’ be an ideological being that writes good stuff? You dont have to be sure of the author’s identity to appreciate their work.

How do you define warmth?

Is it just a physical sense?

If I could break my heart in two, I wouldnt do so.

What makes you down is the red thing that pumps nonstop.

How does it feel being the rod holding all hangers in the closet?

Heavy.

How do you describe worries?

i’ve been reading this book and the author somehow shares the same feeling with me; ‘hell i hate her cough.’ well its not hard to understand. ive never hated someone’s presence as much as i hate hers. man im scared. im scared of every little noise she makes. in front of her i dun even dare to breathe too loudly damn cant concentrate while someone is actually sniffing adn weeping right behind me. i dunno wt to do yeah i know i might hurt ur feelings cos uve been treating us well, or at least u think u treat us well. well yeah, i must admit, righ, but sometimes its just ur onesided thoughts, ur wishful thinking. there is certain discrepancies between wt u hv in mind and what we really get in reality. cant u stop complicating our situation? it could be simple as hell well 4 letters not simple enough but it is at least simpler. yes u do care about us. but as cliche as it could be, it isnt the right way. maybe leaving is really the way to end all these, to put all of us out of misery. sometimes id rather u leave us alone leave us starving than to torture us that way why cant u see why cant u view thigns from our perspectives! being torn between two sides isnt a good feelin you think we intended to diss you come on hell no! y cant you just do some silent reflection it isnt wt reed says it wouldnt turn ur world to stone and patient correction wouldnt leave you alone. whats all that stupid overflowing self-esteemfor i dun feel fine alright you arent no one we all care about u but we jus cant go on like this or u like the feeling of being hated nope i dun wanna hate u u understand me and neither do they! if im really ur burden, leave me alone.

A child called ‘It’.

I can never in a million years imagine how a child could be abused that way.

Few reasons for the continuous abuse:

1. The Mother has mental illness.

2. The boy didnt die.

3. Too much expectation & fantasy.

Come on it isn’t resilience, isn’t a crave for survival, it JUST ISN’T.

That’s simply a suicidal attempt.

The existence of Mother is too much for the whole wide world.

Inhumane is too light a word to describe what Mother has done to It.

I feel disgusted.

so much fun during design thinking lesson.

love school.

love design.

love hypnotizing.

thought i’d never be down again.

what a wrong assumption.

thought i’d only care about myself.

what a lie.

Greatest gratitude to my dearest friends.

I got a life to lead
I got a soul to feed
I got a dream to need
And that’s all I need

‘Be as you wish to seem.’

‘Desire creates power.’

Music is always powerful. It takes you back to the past so without trace that you basically don’t have a choice to say no. Same as fragrance, it always reminds you of someone familiar, someone you know, in the past. Past is present. The corridor in which she’s walking will continue to spread like wild vines.

My motivation.