hold

sometimes i miss the people who remember old me
who would call my old name
and who would know how i was when i was 17
who would remember how my old town was like

i am scared of losing, not remembering, not knowing them
but they are quietly fading away
i don't see them behind these vividly glowing things

today i started to worry
whether i am going to loose these like i did
miss like i do
then it seems enough reason to hold myself here

i know

i see my face changing

nothing to name

reason of a move

recently i realised that i want to be a reason.
the reason to move the feet, the reason to think, the reason to make plan and the reason to be, could be.

i'm thinking of tiny things i do because of those reason.
most of my moves are for myself.
but then i do things for this person and that.
i don't know whether it's a happy thing or a good thing.
but I also realised this is greedy and maybe it can't happen
as much as i move actually only for myself.

self healing

i want to cry till i get hungry
so i leave the tear and chew the grain

london road

Question no.1

we're sharing same things, space, time, names and the air.
but why can't we be friend?

i don't know

replacing all the verbs with hate
but still hate left there

target

mathmetics

i wish every question has only one answer.
then there mustn't be a confusion.
so life gets boring, boring easy.
that's mathmetics.

anonymous

the forced and the target-to-be

Chapmans and Dumas

boring day foldingness

mad printing days

never finish

one i want to be

i watched a film.
the girl in the film looked sad.
thought that i don't want to be like her.
a moment later,
thought that one would say don't want to be like me.

one friend said 'be yourself'.
i feel i'm in the middle of the line of looking, heading toward what i want to be
i left me.
i'm constantly not me
as i always want to be something, someone.
me, the one i would say as myself lives in the air, between what i want and what i am.

don't know whether i want to go back or i can go back
it's not backward then it's another forward.
there's no backward, can't be.

fill

water

sea

wayout

read it

checking up

every moment
i'm unfamiliarising myself

new me is always a little bigger than old me
it's hard to put into my mouth, to chew and swallow

violence

because what you have done
i get upset and i draw me upset
then you are there, see and get upset
but that is what i might intended
wonder who is victim then
is it me who got upset
or is it you

violate
and disturbed

but somehow all emotional contact
seem to be violent
i feel uneasy before someone crying
i feel vulnerable before someone frustrated

it's not that i don't like or what
but i'm just thinking why i feel vulnerable before some expression of emotion

pomegranate day

show: secret heart

the old sweet shop till 14th feb

i'm trying to put more colours

kirchner

i sometimes forget what i really wanted

my cave dropped.

so it doesn't matter anymore.

uncertain thing

clear up
make sense
make sure
name
believe

i don't know what language i think in.
and i don't know whether i really like you.

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just wondered how many pixels make a dot