Have you ever experience creating images of your future in your mind? Having this picturesque self in your own world? I was like that in the past. I used to be a painter of my own dreams. I used to have these perfect dream-came-into-reality images floating in a corner of my little brain.They made me smile, unconscious and genuine smile. In fact, daydreaming was once my hobby and/or habit - whenever and wherever I am. May it be in a lecture class or on my bed before going to sleep. It was my escape from suck-this-damn-ugly-reality. It was my comfort zone.

           Now, I can’t even paint a picture of my own life. I can’t even find a suitable pencil to make a draft. Maybe I had overdone this escape-from-this-world-hazel capability that I am now lost and can’t find my way back. I miss how I have that box of what I really want. I miss how I find solitude without even going too far. Give me a paintbrush and let’s paint our dreams.