An Ordinary Girl

Once I thought
You were a depressive girl
Made by glass.
Fragile, as being too sensitive.
To protest yourself,
You shut your sense
Though your heart was still delicate.

Once I guessed
You were an isolated girl
In between the lines of agony.
Lonely, as being too complicated.
To release yourself,
You picked up your pen and drew
Though your mind was still under the pixelate.

Now I know I was wrong.
You are neither depressive nor isolated
As shown on the surface,
But practical, as every Hong Kong people.

You marked the unwelcome sites,
As they were there.
You depicted your own memory palace,
For not forgetting yourself.

I doubt if you have a dream
Or any emotions.
I wonder if you never disclose your true colors
Or any thoughts.
I lost.

Then you said,
for the millionth times,
"I should not buy any more clothing."
An ordinary girl.


I was working on a art project and I have emailed a local artist some questions about her work. She replied simply. practically. Once I was depressed about it. Oh have I made any mistake and done any silly thing. To understand her more I have read her blog. I add it into my favours. Lol. First I found her lines difficult to read, as they are a bit complicated, leaping between real and virtual worlds. How complicated the artists are?! Then I found she talked about something normal and simple. Surprise! After all, she is still a simple girl with hope. I hope.