“Ballet of the crows.” Photos by Amber Maitrejean.

14/11/19–1.47 A.M.

2 min readJan 1, 2021


Do you know the feeling of being empty and void in a crowded ‘place’? Your head wanders on itself, searching a way to escape from anything yet actually there’s nothing to escape from at the same time? Feeling suffocated, suppressed, insignificant?

People talk to you yet you answer with some shallow laugh and layered emotions. Sometimes, you don’t answer, only nodded into the black mirror and flickering eyes. But mostly, they don’t talk ’cause “it’s all just in our head and the one who could change it is ourself.”

You tried to reach out but expectations really does wonders to make destructive waves of feelings.

People (us) only using each other for recreational value. Maybe because not everyone could go to the theme park everyday, eh?

Only a few hours needed to tore down and destroy all the bridges you’ve made, all the towers you’ve built, all the roots of plants you’ve nourished and love. Only a few hours to burn the bridges down that you’ve built with your sweat, blood, years of time, and emotions. Only a few hours to change the main structure of the tower you’ve built slowly, hardly, exhaustingly — although the tower’s construction itself has never been done. Only a few hours to make acid storm all over your field.

Walking like a main character in a film seems fun, it’s all plotted. But when it’s off the script, the director usually says ‘cut’ and repeat them again and again and again. Take and take and take. Give and give and fuck all of the given things and all of the words (un)said. Fuck all the words said, unsaid, words that said but not needed to be said, and words that unsaid but somehow said in obstructive way.

Existence is justlike a piece of consciousness inside every creature’s mind.

The pain felt outside and inside were insignificant. Both of them are just “in your head,” like what they said.




From the earth we were made, to the ash we go.