Drive.

And I saw you.
Panicked, I stood afar.
I lost control.





Were there moments that I strolled along highways.
Knowing that we wouldn't be given a frame to be intersected, with minor probabilities.
As much as I love to drive, senses always hint me cues of residues that you left,
I guess it was already programmed deep down.
Hence it couldn't be refrained from the wake.

The exercise was for fun, most of the time that is.
Sometimes, imagination was drew upon.
They were like jigsaw puzzles, labyrinths, or maybe the Scrabble games that we used to crack our heads on...
Though I found myself in a warning district, occasionally.



I was driving into the other dimension. It was definitely out of the perimeters from the clouds of gray, it was where I knew I would head to, and I
never I thought that I would see you.

It was like somewhere in heaven.


In reality, I turn out to be pathetic.






I saw you.
Panicked, I stood afar.
I lost control.

As It Is.

Who else still talk about the weather.

Amongst the possibilities of having something more interesting to start with.



It leaked out of me, if you were around the corner,
I think you might have liked that.


It was a lunch time with mild sunlight, yet enough to warm your skin.
The breeze was as gentle, much that I could feel a girl dancing in whirls.

It reminded me the days once I had, I once lived with utmost sincerity.

...felt so good that I thought of you.





Sunshine

Unmechanized.

亲爱的
你不再沮丧了
真替你开心

当我看见你的露骨
你的动与态
能量把我给送了 然而 我穿梭
似乎


似乎


似乎
眼里只有你
我也消失了


你残留给我的
不是缠绵
是心疼
是温柔
是微笑

这是一个我
或许传送不了的讯息
却是个我会拟造的一个
违反黑白的迹



尤记得
曾长留在哪

(A)Symmetrical Miscalculation.

Every last encounter is not to be concerned, it is only but a consequence.

Every tick has its span magnified, as I roamed across the air of bloom.


I just couldn't do it, I tried so hard, but I just couldn't do it.










An intersection.

There wasn't any better reason to explain the passiveness,


but what ran to me was raw,

unintentional, and unadorned.

I was glad that we could meet again.





It had grown inside of me.



p.s. : I tried to look into your eyes and smile.

Have I Told You:

when I woke upon realization-

that I started talking to myself so much that the other self actually felt the nag,

it was the moment I found myself missing you.

Remnants of yours protrude.


And oh, how warm and cosy it remains.

A Grandma Story (Not for Beds).

"Fair enough"
was what that came out from your thoughts.

It was then transcribed as a message, carried by synapses travelling in the blink of speed, expressed through the extension you sometimes adore, popped with the accompaniment of a triggering audio, ...it always give me buzzes.

And it trails, till today.

Goodness of yours dispersed in a gargantuan quantity, generous, as usual. In the existence of cacophony is the opposition party, vanished in silence, cause kept to be unknown. Without even scrutinizing, my dear, this is a rebound to square one,
Come, sit aside me, I'll tell you what I think of, just like how you sip your coffee.

I fathom your desire of the form of submission, to your questions, that is. The root that you parasite on has paid its time, it had its cycled run, even after death. Goodness of the practitioner wouldn't come to you in this dimension, as it makes no meaning, as the purpose is nullified. Then again, what is it that you seek for?





Wise one, I wish to speak.
Why did we collide in the designed force and motion, in the given space?
Was it for the present, I ask.
Is the design meant to be definite?

Mustn't I feel sad nor sorry for the aftermath, for I hold zero control of the circumstances.
I have came to a point that a reflection has mirrored upon, a result of the condition that was compiled by a series of involuntary outputs.

The vision is drawing closer, I believe.

I shall close my eyes, just as the film suggested.