you're like an old friend to me. thanks for being an important part of my uni /year out life for 6 years. when you're gone after tmr, you will be missed.
thank you very much too my dear government, or whoever made the decision, for destroying this beautiful piece of colonial architecture that is still standing and functioning perfectly. well done, just well done, you sure know what you're doing.
* it better not be another bloody 'cultural center' too, it's just too ironic, not a funny joke.
ever since I was a kid I dreamed of being an artist of some kind. painter, sculptor, musician, animator, you name it, I've though of becoming one at some stage of my life.
The failures in human connections and loves have only enforced the idea of earthly links only leads to meaninglessness and anxiety. To fight against the boredom and mundaneness in life, I draw, I craft, I create, for only visions and thoughts are eternal, or at least that's what i believed in.
It is difficult, and I sought ways out of this seemingly impossible quest again and again by selling loves to another human or object, exchanging passions with cheap jokes, burying boredom with sex and sensual pleasure. I pretend I never knew about human murdering each other in wars, loves never ended with betrayals and tears shed. I keep on spilling craps out of my mouth as if spoken languages still carry meanings, as if 十五, 二十, 飲啦 will bring me endless joy. I pretend, and i convince myself the world is perfect as what it is and everything happens because it's bound to happen. From there on I started to question art, I despite artists and designers for they are no more than over-read, over-fed, and over-act beings scribbling on pieces of paper for nothing. I lose persistence in my own work. Life on the fast lane was easy then, but the intolerable guilt stacks. Self-love and self-hatred swings back and forth, splitting my personality, tumbling my soul (as if I still behold one?), wondering what could save me from this torment?
Pick up a pen and draw a line, and all of a sudden, i can pretend no more. Endless opportunities arise from the tip of my pencil, world expands, one step towards utopia. This is it, I've found my linkage to the greater dimension, the Cosmo, a hide out from daily ignorance and. Creativity, I'll try my best not to betray you again.
for you non-believers, I am sure you've found your own way to tranquility. for my fellow dreamers, let's make art, not war.