The Haphazard Randomness

What if, the street arts are gone?

What if, the underground tube music performers disappeared?

What if, the skateboarders at London Bridge and Mile End are no longer there?


The weather is turning cold. It's the time of the year again, where the autumn is handing the baton to winter.

The wind is blowing strong,  as though it is putting some ice cubes on your cheeks. The pavements near Lexham Garden, which are usually crowded by yellowish-brown maples leaves, are slowly disappearing into raindrops and snows.

After putting yourself through a perfect, mechanical learning system for almost 4 years, you forget to see the world as how it is.

You thought that all people should be perfect. They should be performing at their peak all the time. The pinnacle is the goal for everyone below the pyramid.

Once you arrive at the summit, you don't see the great view under the mountain where previous climbers have told you. Instead, you see a taller pyramid. A higher peak.

Every human being is trained to be a perfect fighter. You can't be unorganised. You can't do things haphazardly.

Then, you suddenly realise, you almost forget the feeling when you float like a butterfly and sting like a bee in the badminton court.

You suddenly realise, the camera lense is full of dust. The beautiful angle which you can capture intuitively, have lost its geometry.

The words in your mind, are no more like pixies which dance gracefully, but are arranged into A-Z in a dictionary, or a thesaurus.

Getting confused in painting, by putting on the colour of imagination on the canvas. And, you begin to worry why this colour is not 98.57% similar to the example.

I am glad that in my fourth year, I begin to see life as a haphazard randomness.