There is not enough time to think, every tomorrow already becomes today.
Drink too much water and coffee. Life doesn't have a regular routine.
Reversed nights and days, like every holiday.
Put my English vocabulary book under the pillow,
and now and then read Murakami Haruki and Marguerite Duras.
Last night the city had a horrible storm.
I fell asleep with the sound of rain and a violin from the neibourhood.
The sounds mixed together, like a piece of the beautiful harmony of a symphony.
Sometimes I wonder how hurt would the sky be to make it cry this bad?
The people were once on the streets start to run away, and then disappear.






The night is grey, the rain is trasparent. My heart is grey, I am trasparent.



Sunshine after rain. big city. clean streets.
outstanding girls with confident eyes. warm smiles.
Then I realized I am still the old girl like when I was in high school,
nothing has changed from that side of the world to this side.
I can never be as flamboyant and showy. Always as insipid as water.
And look at my other self die in the sunshine of summer.
I calm down, I nod. My sparkling lipquid comes off.
I got some brown eyeshadow into my eyes, and they hurt.
Like a quiet girl, I am never a gorgeous lady.
My eyes can't express my confidence, and my smile can never be as warm.
I am always cared as a child, not to be loved.






Not love. I might not be a lady even with the high heel shoes.
The high heels are too fragile to bare the weight of my broken dreams.
The end of April. Sunshine covered the city after rain.
The blue glasses of buildings reflect bright sunshine, to remind people in the city that summer has come.
I look at the white sunshine from the top of a building,
and don't know why about anything.