The Tangible Hallucination of Rourou in the Day-Time

I am looking at it.

It looks like a bubble

The bubble swings along breezy.

It captures the sky, the street, the stores, the strangers… 

There is everything in the bubble, I guess… 

Everything.

All of the things.

Any kind.

I am looking at it, from the outside to the inside,

I see my eyes.

My eyes are reflected from the surface of the bubble.

I am looking at it, I try to see more things in it.

I see myself,

I am not in the bubble.

 

 

I’m looking at it,

It looks like a beam of light.

It is so bright.

It is so bright as though there is no darkness. 

It is hope.

I am looking at it,

I feel the delight.

I want to catch the beam of light,

I run and run.

I run so far

I run for so long,

When can I catch the beam of light?

 

 

I am looking at it,

It looks like a brick.

Actually, many bricks.

They built apartments.

Fancy apartments.

They are so strong, they block all the winter coldness. 

I am looking at it,

I am looking at the bricks along the river.

When can the bricks be my bricks?

 

 

I am looking at it,

It looks like a city.

I am in the city looking at it.

I am looking from the inside.

I am looking around,

From the left side to the right side, 

From the upside to the downside. 

The city is spinning,

I am spinning.

I don’t know where I am, 

Am I still in the city?

...

 

...

 

Is it my real home?

where is my home?

The home is never my home.

I think it is just the place I sleep in Brooklyn.

It is just the place that I can rest when I am tired.

queen size bed

soft and comfy.

got sleep nicely sometimes.

But why,

the home is never my home.