Saturday, November 3, 2018


A mushroom intercepted me  when I was daydreaming. Yes, I daydream too while running. (I am a wolf in the wild, I always think I am.)

So I brought my DSLR along.

Mushrooms never tell lies; they are beautiful. This one too. (Alice too. She says she is beautiful.)

I found the best angle although it did not require one. This was pretty cold white through which Wonderland was not my usual Wonderland.

(The white rabbit was invisible. Alice was outstanding.)

A mushroom intercepted me, this reminded me of you all.

Saturday, September 15, 2018

Just Flat

Had a chat with Alice . 

"You run so hard recently. Do you know what will happen?"

This is a sure tricky question, I told myself. I press pause button.

"Do you know the earth will be flattened by you very soon."

"Oh that's funny. I shall create a new flat world." 

A nearby mushroom murmured, " You will be as flat as me before anything can happen." 

Saturday, August 11, 2018

Alice's Stories


Where is Alice? 

She is actually living somewhere inside my heart that beats in a waveform pattern of her happiness.

When I think I run fast enough to go deep inside my heart, Alice has gone hiding somewhere behide thousands spores of a "glass" mushroom.

I has to fill the glass with wine, this will distract her from leaving again. 

Her stories will then begin. I love these. You have heard many of them.

Saturday, August 4, 2018

My Big Problem

I used my legs more often than my brain recently. Who knows, when my legs grow  stronger, my brain will shrink down to the size of a penny one day.

This is definitely a big problem.

To give up marathon in blogging and indulging in running marathons is not my intention, which is insisted too by Alice.

"What if a mushroom has a very small cap and a very big stalk, do we call it a mushroom?" She has her point.

This is my very big problem.

Sunday, June 3, 2018

So Ratty


When dreams of many mushrooms are compressed solidly under soil and dirt, some hang on tress, peep and record whatever they think are weird.  Since then we, the passersby, daydream inside their dreams.

Dreams can be small but busy. They always cross-link, there are always bad sectors. 

We are garbled. I bear the head of a rat some of the times. I run into many holes, thinking wonderland is at the far ends, end up finding rat hairs all over my body. So ratty.

What does a rat dream with a silly but complicated man's brain?