I tend to fear that I may be doing things all wrong all the time.
Isn’t it quite odd, that at times what we want strays far from what we’re doing? I find myself cradling inside cold boxes I never asked to be in but found myself existing nevertheless. I’m a collection of different paradoxes knotted up altogether.
just to be living sometimes.
For a sleepy girl, I always have trouble sleeping when I’m supposed to. When I’m supposed to do certain things, I end up doing another. I’m going in circles. I’m crying all the time.
I wish I wasn’t so naive. So indecisive. So reckless. So.. me. But..
I am, I am, I am. *
No matter how hard to try, it’s right there on my forehead. I don’t seem to belong anywhere. It stresses me too much to try so hard to belong. But I don’t feel harmony.
I feel homesick everywhere I go.
I can’t even get out from this flesh that’s supposed to be my home.
The darkness, the lightness. The overwhelming motions and sound. It’s scary and I feel too small.
And all I can do is laugh. This world is so silly.
This world is cruel, but it’s beautiful. It’s dull and yet full of surprises. It’s a master of paradoxes, just as much how I betray myself in the end too.
Photos taken by: Charles Wong