Writing isn’t just an art. It’s a way of making sense of the world.

Our world is so individualized, so different from others, yet similar in queer ways. We write to make sense of how that world works, what that world does.

We write to understand how other worlds influenced our world, and what are the basic laws that governed ours. Writing makes us search deep within just to make sense of this world.

After all, what is life? We are still asking that question, still searching an answer in our own worlds. Thousands of stories, writings, but we haven’t solve the question. In the end, the answer isn’t universal, but local.

To each of their own, what is life, and what is their world like?