photograph.

14 September 2012 · by · in blah, nonsense rhymes

I have a photograph of you up on the wall on the right side of my bed. You look tormented, what a good acting you’ve done, but still so handsome. Like a beggar, a random someone said, but that’s how I love it. In real life you look seven times more ordinary. And shy, running away constantly from the camera, afraid to give too much of your beautiful soul peeking out of your softly spoken broken English.

But then when I wake up in the morning and look at my face on the mirror I think, hey, I shouldn’t be speaking English. This is such a Chinese face. You are much more authentic in that. May your life be normal, like what any random person’s life is supposed to be.

← remote control baby.

As a result of an auction in Sarah Vanhee's The Great Public Sale of Unrealised But Brilliant Ideas, my bio has become a collective bio:

When they were thirteen, Tintin Wulia and Christiane Berndes wished that Peter Pan would lose his shadow in their neighborhood, because they thought that Peter Pan was kinda sexy. Night after night, they would think a happy thought, wishing that Peter would find them if they could fly. Nothing happened – Tintin and Christiane discovered that Peter had much preferred Wendy.

Three decades later, Tintin and Christiane are still discovering many things. One, that Peter Pan is a fictional character invented by James Matthew Barrie. Two, that the fact that Peter is fictional doesn’t mean that he’s illusory. They are also discovering that, three, it is not a happy thought that one needs to be able to fly – it is, rather, the combination of a passport and a valid visa. And also, four, that the fact that one needs a passport and a valid visa to be able to fly is just shitty.