1987 Cosmic Overture

The universe is far from innocent.

Three fallen stars.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Those who departed from home are now wandering through tales.

We can never find the perfect moment.

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

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

Beside a flowering grave, she left these.

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

And yet, we remain forever on the road.