When I was a teen, sick and tired of this disgusting world, I began to meet strange men secretly. All these relationships are written in my journal, recorded by the camcorder, or between the traces of my memories. In the sight of candid shot, or in the pornography-like representation, I and they (in and out of the frame) were just like a funambulism on a single line struggling with out lives. Looking back now, I realize why I wrote and taped them. In their hidden faces that "the daytime-people" can never see, I saw myself sinking below ceaselessly.
