Two sides of the moon
Under the skin
I slowly peel off this thin, made-up human skin
To reveal my dumb and dumber self
My true self doesn't like to smile
And I can't learn the social niceties
But I do draw a mask of personality
A sweet scent in the noise of people
It's a fake social skin.
As if you were someone else.
Click here to see your new identity
Perfect Clone
Have you ever had moments when you felt like you weren't good enough? When I feel like I'm not good enough, I imagine another person. She has the same gender and age as I do. But this one, who has the same genes as me, meets all the tangible and intangible requirements, fits all the rules and regulations, she is a perfect clone in every sense of the word, a mask for my superego and persona.
I click on select her in the gene pool and choose a perfect option. When I think I'm not perfect, I imagine I have a perfect clone who can help me solve my problems, I clicked on her in the gene library to select.
Make a visionary dream for me.
superego and persona
Balance of symmetry
I looked longingly at you in front of the huge clock of time, the hands that held up the portrait of you and me perhaps named the God of symmetry. I thought, if you and I, inside and outside the mirror and the reflection of the lake are the same person, why do I feel that you are so strange, like what I most wanted to be but did not become, a clearer and taller me; and at the same time, on the other side where everything is upside down, I also resemble your past appearance, a more chaotic and weaker you.
If the story of the common bird can explain our relationship, if the color of our shadows can distinguish the inherent color of the sun in two worlds, if time stands still at the moment when we can recognize each other, then it is in the rift of that moment.
I am you and you are me.
My God is watching me from above
Shadow Self
You are my identical twin sister who never had a life
You are a perfect clone with the same genes as me
You are my doppelganger called superego and personality mask
You are the moon god who watches over me in the astrolabe for a long time
If I take all the pills that can expel the disease and dirt from my body
Then the person who struggles to crawl out of the sludge becomes you
When I am in the midst of freedom
I look for a cage
When I am in chains
I prayed for an escape
So I stripped you from my body
Just after the sound of my name for you fell to the ground
In a second, in a moment, in a gap of time
You descended in this world, as my god
While they were saying that their god was better than other gods
You are the god that exists only above my head watching me
If the right and wrong, true and false, black and white of this world
All depends on the difference of position
Then the you that I built out of the gravel of fantasy and the clay of lies
Can also in a second, in a moment, in a gap of time
Can you become more real than anything else?
I have often doubted myself
Maybe you don't exist
Just a fantasy of mine
But you immediately reassured me
That you will always be with me
I said yes
Play chess with my self
The other and me
When another voice appears inside you telling you what to do, do you accept it all at once, or do you argue with that voice? I then visualized the process as a game on a chessboard and used two colors to distinguish the different voices. The blue one was her, the one who advised me not to cross that bottom line, and the one who compelled me to cross that bottom line. She was the god who advised me and the devil who tempted me, and at the same time, she was the inseparable other me.
In my isolated inner world, there is an empty room that belongs to me, which over time, has grown flowers, trees and curtains to shield me from the outside world's gaze. I was playing chess with my alter ego, who often disagreed with me and whose conflicting ideas were like a game on a chessboard. Most of the time, though, we were friendly and made a pact not to step outside the room.
Dream and Bubble is you
Unborn sister
Sometimes I wish I could be closer to her, so I imagine that she is my twin sister in blood, that we might be identical sisters in another parallel time, that we could hold each other close at every moment of crying, that we could be honest with each other, that we would carry the same responsibilities for each other, that we would not extend malicious tentacles to each other, that we would be all kind, closer than mother and daughter, closer than mother and daughter, than lovers, than all intimacy.
As an only child, I used to imagine that I had a sister when I was a child and would wish for a living person without any reason from my mother, perhaps because my parents were always busy with social engagements and all I had at home was furniture and appliances that I named and a black and white bear. I think if I had a sister, then we could play with play-dough, Barbie dolls and seesaws together.
Slut and Virgin
Twin Flame
Both you and I are fixed to the cross, the backs of my feet bearing the marks of nails driven through them, while your wrists are bound and bound by invisible ropes. Echoes of points of light exploding between you and me echo, while low-frequency white fire flickers in the dark, abstract symbols occupy most of the space, like those ineffable thoughts that, if one stretches out one's fingers, might also be able to catch a light half-strand.
With twin flames as the keyword of inspiration, the same black white as well as blue is used as the limiting palette; blue is also used as the background and moon's inherent color base, using white to draw symbols light dots, stars moon and flame meteors, these aura glowing one time moment, black as the heavy color goes to be the depressing and receding part of the whole picture. I hope the final effect can achieve a sharp contrast between the left and right characters, the word starting with v on the left and the word starting with s on the right, trying to achieve a concept of dichotomy and conflict.
