It was eight months ago I boarded the ‘Flying Hongkonger’, and we are not reaching the shore. I can’t remember how I got on the ship. It seems that I was already in this cabin when I woke up. The time here is chaotic. The bearing and heading are blurred. The only thing that keeps me awake is the writing of this Logbook.
Sometimes I can’t speak, pictures help me record; sometimes the image and memory betray me, the blank proves the existence of time.
2020.1.1
發現自己下意識會避開人多的地方，聽到煙火的聲音，聞到煙的味道依然會精神緊張。
Avoiding crowded places subconsciously. The sound of fireworks, the smell of smoke still make me nervous.
