Travel in hyper-reality

He asked: "Who is your idol?"

I said: "No one."

However, I used to think about Thiện as my idol, when I was younger. His imperfectness makes me fall deeply in love with him.

I still have dream that I can visit all the rivers that Thiện mentioned in his text.

Today is one year since he left this grim but sparkling reality...

A field of dried grass

I remember a Chinese proverb:

Dried grass yields fireflies

I always think that it must be a summer night, when the sky is deeply dark, like velvet, like rose, like dry wind which passes through the grassland. Such a scene, just in my mind!

And in the last days in his life, Basho had a poem like that:

falling sick on a journey
my dream goes wandering
over a field of dried grass

Then here is a blog about the journey of a firefly :)

..........