I forced myself to stay at the cage, like the hunger artist who could have give up his fast but didn’t till he died. This is my Kafka joke of life. I couldn’t help but stick to trivia that establish a great belief of mine. Why wouldn’t I just take the key and unlock myself with a breath of fresh air? The artist starved himself for a cause of art but what about me? There is always a question mark left behind of any possibility. Who knows what could be your next mission on this journey of life. The beauty of this fasting wasn’t the amazing stamina he performed; to me, it was the same pathetic spirit we shared that drew most of my attention. That’s the best part of this story.

Sitting in this fancy cage I decorated for them, I act like an onlooker, mocking at everything they’ve done. People are fools who believe in secrets, digging thousands of holes just to find a safe place to hide this precious little scheme. I am nobody in this game but somehow I know I can be somebody if I want to. When the crowd starts to feel tired of this old-fashion performance, what’s your next step?

She invited me into this labyrinth, trying to bluff me with this maze. I stepped into her game without hesitation. This is going to be an exciting adventure. My show is either going to be a remarkable success to the public or just another sad ending of this life that is out of date. Even if I failed, I still felt proud of my performance. This is not just a fasting; this is a fasting of sarcasm to the union of two evil spirits.

Sometimes, remaining silent and being stubborn aren’t that stupid as you think. In my world, I am a quiet hunger artist who still believe in Kafka’s preach.