A story set in ancient China, sometime when witty poets wrote prose inspired from romance - eloping with wine, the adoration of a lover, affection for the vast expanse of sky or even love for words. This is a votive praise to what was a magnificent culture.     

  They say the intrigued have the attitudes and attributes of artists. They’re always careless, spontaneous and very much apathetic – caught in a different world, ruled by their own principles. I call them artists too, though it’s hardly a compliment. I’m jealous of how they can just abandon a long-held lover as if kissing was reserved for bygones and yesterdays. I’m envious

  It was cold that day, so much so that I could taste it. The storm was thundering down hard and pellets of rain fell like bullets that dissipated upon contact, leaving a tattoo of liquefied remains where they touched. It was a bad to be out and I knew that myself, but even rationale couldn’t keep me cooped up when the sea underneath felt like a blissful landscape, unmoved and unaffected by the storm up above. I lay, facing the sky, the wavering expanse of vast blue-black, like an

  It happens when you look at me – like ants having a drunke reverie as they amble up my spine. The way your lips pull wide like curtains on a stage to reveal that row of beautifully bright, shining teeth; it makes me shiver, even though it’s not cold at all. Ever since you happened, I’ve wished for winter all year ‘round so that I don’t have to hide these tremblings and make up a new excuse for them every time. The way you chuckle to yourself when you find something funny

I have to run. To run far, far away where no one knows who I am, where I come from, what I am doing. I have to escape to a place where no one can recognise me and fabricate a new identity for myself. A new face.   Don't follow me.

  “He will be my Magnum Opus!” the eccentric man shouted gleefully, putting down his electric welder to raise his fists in proud proclamation. The white coat he wore was stained with oil, embossed with charcoal burn-marks and tattered in areas at the cuffs around the sleeves. The underground laboratory hummed its usual chorus of sentient machinery, sounding like the repercussant bass of a low budget orchestra accompanying the madman to his frenzied creations. The said lunatic gritt

This is for all the independent ladiesLet's go

I just want to hold you. EXO + You = oneshots.            1.      Chanyeol is at a fan-sign. Sitting at the end of the table, he feels c

    “What am I to you? Your toy?!” His eyes were burning and his words were like a rain of bullets into your chest. Shrinking into a corner you lowered your gaze and it felt like miles all of a sudden, spaced out between you and him. He cursed and then ran his hands through his hair, looking up in agonising defeat, almost as if searching for god. The fire place that burned impregna

There's this distance. This expanse of space, that blocks me from you. But the thing is, it's the only thing we have.