Magic

I have always wondered what draws me to this unusual art form.

Since young, I found magic disgustingly fascinating. My father is a big fan of magic, and David Copperfield was at his prime. I could still recall how my brother shouting "magic~"in a ridiculously high pitch(which was REALLY CUTE) just to invite me to join him watching Copperfield's show in the living room. Copperfield was on TV almost every year performing incredibly sophisticated illusions that my young mind could not appreciate. My father, on the other hand performs simple close-up effects. With just a wave of the magic wand, everything is possible. Somehow I knew there were trickeries, but I wanted to believed in magic.

During my early teenage years, I found out magic is fake. Shit it was almost the same time when I realized there is no Santa Claus nor Superman, and the drawer of my study desk can never lead me to the entrance of time machine. Watching magic performance was a means to distract myself from the stress and my excruciating life. I started learning and performing magic for my friends. I was always seeking for attention, and magic was how I express myself.

Magic is enigmatic, but how it captivated me for so long so was a mystery.

I think found the answer.

I was watching the devilish Derren Brown (my favorite mentalist and author) performance on youtube. I was mesmerized.

I knew how it was done. My logic told me I knew exactly how it was done.

Deep inside, I want to believe he is real. Fuck I really do not want to admit. The truth is I want to believe magic is real. FUCK PERHAPS I EVEN WANT TO BELIEVE SUPERMAN, ALIENS, SANTA CLAUS, PSYCHICS, DEITIES AND DORAEMON IS REAL.

Perhaps deep inside me, I rather I know nothing about grotesque reality of life.

Perhaps deep down I want to believe that everything is possible with just a wave of the magic wand.

Perhaps after all these years, I have not grown, nor matured at all.