1987 Cosmic Overture

The universe is far from innocent.

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Three fallen stars.

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It carries the weight of each individual; it raises the towering walls of every endeavor.

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A small town shimmering with light and fireworks, a wandering friend once said. Come, take a chance.

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Notes come together and dance, unaware they are about to become a complete song.

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The second reason behind the urgent need to improve transport security.

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Don't feel guilty. Every flower once struggled just as you do now.

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An expensive group photo. Usually found in a weathered old frame.

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About the perfect moment to speak in defense of "me."

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How could you possibly expect warm rain to fall inside a greenhouse?

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I am grateful for the times I felt exhausted and uninspired, yet never put down my pen.

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Hissing snakes, crackling sparks, measuring tapes, a crow, and a glass fish tank. A mess, but full of life and sound.

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I have seen many kinds of flowers—in small towns, in laboratories, on hurried journeys. They bloom so well, and so fragrantly.

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Those who departed from home are now wandering through tales.

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We can never find the perfect moment.

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It's just the inconvenience caused by instant noodles, vegetable packets, and some time theory yet to be debunked. You and I both understand.

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The little snakes eagerly flick their tongues at you, warm like another burning heart.

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Beside a flowering grave, she left these.

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0.12 pixels, maybe smaller. You belong here, and so do I.

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And yet, we remain forever on the road.

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