The one you wanted to visit is under construction; so I booked a tour to Casa Milà

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July 14

PaperHouse should be a personal project, not a source of income. Accept that you haven’t convinced yourself to turn this into a business yet. So finish this art and go back to living life.

PaperHouse has not been finished. So is the Sagrada Família. Therefore, please allow visitors.

Basílica de San Papel

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I’ve always loved the concepts of “observation” and “collapse” in quantum mechanics. Schrödinger’s cat, for example. Before you observe it, the cat exists in a state of superposition, both alive and dead at the same time. But the very split second you look, the die is cast; the cat’s fate is sealed, locked, and unalterable.

If I told you that your life is exactly like this cat—that as long as you refuse to face the critical questions, the cat retains infinite potential. You are free to customize its breed, its fur, its color, and everything else.

Naturally that sounds very enticing to a creative mind. So I think: if it were entirely up to me, this cat could be cream-colored with faint orange stripes. He would have a harmonious face, and love curling up next to people to sleep. Every visitor and every other cat would inevitably fawn over how mesmerizing he is; he is the Justin Bieber of cats.

But I’d also love a cat that is pitch black. I’ve seen some incredibly striking black cats. I’d want him to have a stone-cold bone structure, a piercing gaze, and a vigorous stride. Looking at him, you couldn’t help but wonder if he flies out the window and saves the city while you sleep. Well imagine Batman, but a cat.

Are you still dreaming? Don’t forget that in this space, time isn’t real. You could spend an eternity traversing every single possibility.

Just know that the more you fantasize, the more likely that when you open the box, the cat inside has already become a decaying corpse.

In imagination, all options are true; all the breathtaking wonders are gathered up your mind. But refusing to choose is a choice of its own. To not choose is to remain Peter Pan, forever intoxicated in your Neverland.