snow.
I wanted to write something about snow, but then an email came from Damien Sully asking why I auctioned my pimple over eBay through this delicately marvelous guy/artist that I’ve just met on the street. I tried to reply. Here’s…
cotton.
Apple-flavoured cotton floss on a stick. Cotton candies are ones of the things in fairs that I have always looked at wondrously and thought of buying but never got to. They’re one of the small puerile pleasure that reminds me…
half poem.
I was on a motorbike and was wondering why because in real life, I don’t ride motorbike. In this world, instead of flying west for 24 hours to get to Boston, my airplane takes off, then just hovers in…
dog.
When I went out of our car it felt like a different world. The winding road was empty, and the ricefields in front of us rich. They spread all over the deep valley like civilization flourishing. Some parts brown mud,…
sunset.
As it dawned on me that the sky was not as clear as it used to be, the sunset was reaching its lowest point. I listened. They say you should be able to hear it when you hold your breath…
why.
Early March 2007 marks my reintroduction to the web. As an old-skooler who puts respect in bandwidth (read as: only do whatever you need to do in the internet, never more, whatever “need” might be), the beginning of my current…
home.
Taking a one minute break to write about something my brain glanced into while writing my research proposal draft. It’s about the idea of a home. I came to realize that home for me is not a place. Neither it…