Time to go back and visit my parents across the globe. I haven’t been back for a long time. I wasn’t even able to call. The phone in my place can only receive calls but you cannot dial out.

Strange but true.

I went to the office in charge of the complex telling them some thieves are stealing my clothes and wearing them, despite the fact that I changed the key to my place twice. I was told it is simply unimaginable.

Of course it is unimaginable. It is strange but true.

I have never lost my key. The keys must have grown legs. All three keys walked to the thieves’ hands and offered like a prostitute to be used. The women wear my clothes and whore around to marketing their exotic flavor. My clothes are from a different culture, so they automatically have an exotic and different flavor.

I hate it very much.

What is so exotic? Men share similar biological features, regardless of their ethnicity. Women share similar biological features, in the same way. What is exotic is their different cultural beliefs, not their biological features. On that every man is the same. Many of them sleep with other women behind their wives’ backs. The “good” gentlemen would also at least “kiss,” if not downright sleeping. What is so different after all?

Everything is so confusing. I only know who fired at me and who have sought to trap me. So I watch carefully.

Keep your eyes on the ball.


I left A; A sank.

I left B; B sank.

You do not know what you have scorned until it is too late.


Is this a rainbow? Is it? Is it? I don’t think it is. You do not see it with your eyes. To see it with their eyes is one big mistake many have made.

You must see with your heart.


I have kept the legal papers for well over three years. I did not use them. I kept weighing and weighing. I do not like what I see and feel and know.

What is it? What is it? Many wonder.


The work is a wonder. Such things only grace our existence one or twice in our lifetime. And it may or may not announce its arrival.

So ridiculous? So ambitious? So arrogant?


My primary purpose in life is not to be known. I do not like to be known. One  try, I think, is enough.


You do not talk to be understood. You talk and you write because you want to. You do them for yourself, most of the time.


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