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Statue of
Ribberty
Sally Chao
Boroondara
Literary Awards
Winner or Highly
Commended
‘I want to live simply. I want to sit by the window when it rains and read
books I’ll never be tested on. I want to paint because I want to, not because
I’ve got something to prove. I want to listen to my body, fall asleep when the
moon is high and wake up slowly, with no place to rush off to. I want to not
be governed by money or clocks or any of the artificial restraints that
humanity imposes on itself. I just want to be boundless and infinite.’
Anonymous
Each living identity is welcomed into this world, creating a pathway of life from
the moment our eyes witnessed the world. A building. It can be metaphorically
symbolised as the destination to the beginning or end of one’s journey. Although,
journeys are never infinite.
Each inviting, exciting, momentary action and
adventure we proceed into doing does not last forever. We come to find along our
journeys, that we get caught in buildings, between the walls of reality and fantasy.
We triumph, with the thought that our worlds are expanding, although in
actuality, they are only shrinking, until we are suffocated by the walls of reality
that eventually grasp us in despair and whisk us away as if our very existence is
merely just as relevant as a single star billions of light years away in another
universe.
Whether you’re born human or animal;
we’re all just a frog in the big city
.
Sometimes, each emotion we possess expands, multiplies and fills the empty
space of these suffocating walls and we find ourselves arriving at our destined
building before our journey has even departed.
My name is Alfredo.
I’m big; yet small.
I’m rich; yet poor.
I’m lively; yet violent
And I’m pretty; yet ugly.
I’m also a frog.
NewYork City
– the reigning capital of the world. Where questions
are answered, where dreams are capital-ised and where loves are
eternalised; or perished.
The skyline anticipated its stormy awakening as it exhaled a fetid
breeze across the overshadowing expanse of New York City, the air
as crisp as the precisely cut edge of a brand new book that had not
yet touched shelving.
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