Recalculating, 2011 - This work is about the struggle of growing up and becoming an adult.

 

Now that I see those beautiful snowflakes falling, I find myself again at Madison Square park with the girl who showed me the way there.
For I wasn't brave enough to ask. Mom, I want to go to America. That sentence has got stuck inside.

„Delivery failure. Please try again later.”

Will I spend from now on every night with hitting my forehead against a wooden column?

I can’t really ask anyone how things were when I was a child.

They are there, though. I’m just probably not strong enough to brake through.

The real clown is the saddest thing in the world. He fights his war fiercely with his wooden sword while the audience just keeps laughing.

… I won't come back here until I'm recovered. I don't want another mom. I want to bury the original one first.

Sometimes there’s no need to talk for there’s no point in it.
It’s hard for me to realize which these moments are.

 

I didn’t realize a woman stopped above me until she started talking. I was staring up on her blankly from the bottom of a well.

I ride away again. Someone’s looking at my back and her look burns a hole in my sweatshirt. If it continues like that, I’ll surely disappear.

This is my last chance to do experiments. I’ll do it cautiously, with great care to the details.

Every time I cry, I feel as if I had a huge bag swollen of tears. Nowadays it's been leaking a bit.

So far, I have diagnosed myself with three different mental diseases just to get exemption. But they never gave me one.

I am anxious for you because you are not ready for true love.

You have kept lying to me for 4 months.

 

I haven’t changed too much in the past nine years. I’m able neither to love nor to leave things behind.

If I were more humble I would be probably more powerful.