Every morning I walk to work along the same boring road. Day after day I repeat the same actions. Sometimes I leave Haikou to go to Guangzhou, Beijing or some other place, but after I step out of the airport or railway station I feel as though I am still in Haikou. The buildings that line the streets seem to be the same kind of modern buildings, with the same mosaic tile or brick wall facing, the same architectural styles. Even the sky seems to be the same shade of blue. Just that same morning I had still been sitting at home; now it is afternoon and I am already in Beijing or Shanghai. If I take a flight from China to America today, and spend 24 hours travelling, when I arrive in America it will still be today, departure and arrival seem to be the same time. These many similarities and repetitions make me think that reality must be false, that sensory perceptions are ambiguous. Faced with this 2-dimensional kind of life, an utopian dreamland for the common people, I can only make subjective conjectures – it is like an empty, insubstantial body or ornament, and I have no way of freeing myself. It seems that it is because of reality that I am searching for this kind of fabricated sensation, reality – that you cannot possibly resist, that you cannot ever go back to.