Ctrl+Z. Ctrl+Me.

"Just living is not enough", said the butterfly, "one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower."
— Hans Christian Andersen.

i am disappearing.

"Your visions become clear only when you look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes."

- C. G. Jung


Everybody has boxes.
Every box has a key.

Some people keep their keys close to them -
Key them in a bunch and hang them around their neck.

Some people keep their keys out of sight -
Away in their drawers, locked drawers, hidden from plain sight.

Some people forget where they keep their keys -
No clue on where they had last left them and the don't really care.

Some people just can't find their keys -
Searching everywhere over and over, no idea whether they still existed.

Some people hang a fake key around their neck -
Pretending that it could open something special.

Some people hang a shiny golden key -
The one that couldn't open anything at all.

Everybody has boxes.
Every box has a key.

Some people have their own will to keep opening the box -
To keep in contact with the contents within the box.

Some people have their own will to put away the keys -
With no intention of keeping in contact with anything from the box.

Some people have no idea where their key is -
Swallowed down inside their stomach, no way to be retrieved.

Some people have their own will to pretend their key is real -
A show is put up, well-planned and almost perfect.

Some people are too afraid to open their box -
They put their key in plain sight, in hope no one would use it to open their box.

Some people leave their key in plain sight -
Their box no where to be seen.


There comes a point where people in the world,
people all around you,
they are the judge,

People all around,
they judge you for the contents inside your box,
they judge you for how well you keep the key,
they judge you for everything.

Those ashamed of their box,
hides it away,
throws their key away,
and insist that the box never existed.

Some people have peeped into other people's boxes
but nothing has been said.
The comments are kept to themselves,
the scepticism boils alongside curiosity.

Those who are able to brace the judgements and hold out their keys are the brave ones.

Those who can hide their keys and put on a facade are the cunning ones.

Those who have forgotten where they put the keys are the lucky ones.

Those who swallowed the keys are the ones who feel the scratches from within themselves.


Don't shovel along the paths you're uncertain of.
Don't look for the boxes which you don't have the key.

You'll get dirt on yourself,
and you won't even know why sometimes,
when the mind is too set on finding the boxes,
which you have no key to open.


Nobody knows his real name.
What's your real name?

Take me out,
and finish this waste of a life.



inside my bird's eye theories,
I try to say goodbye, defy, and deny,
what it is I'm fearing,
clearly I am dying, dearly I am writing,
merely testifying, that the test to fly requires
I pass the test with colours flying.


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