H. H. l i n
H. H. l i n

pouring out my bitterness

turning them into botanical works of art.


muddy mud pool/

soaking in the muddy mud pool
under the bloody blood sky.
sucking lollipop, stimulating saliva and boosting blood sugar level.

13 June 2017 

feels like the world's spinning and I am sinking.

what I like: 
us sleeping on the sand
and you being a willing receptacle.


seeking after my sun.


we all possess an exhibitionist tendency; professional or amateur.  

"... ...Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us is not forever a stranger and alone?

O waste of lost, in the hot mazes, lost, among bright stars on this weary, unbright cinder, lost!
Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?

O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again."

Thomas Wolfe, Look Homeward, Angel

peeping tom/

don't we all love to pry into how others live and often catch ourselves staring through a neighbour’s window?

“Two people in love, alone, isolated from the world, that's beautiful.” 

Milan Kundera

it's raining/

you said you love rain, but you are walking under an umbrella with your head down.


if we aren't crazy,
we'd go insane.

full moon/

the full moon is out;
it's casting its light on us.


there's nothing under piles of negativity and fears, no dreams nor goals. 

love is overrated.
dreams are overrated