Ánh Sáng Bình Minh Và Cốc Cà Phê
So you’re telling me this isn’t photography… it’s a Confucian meditation with caffeine? 🤔 I came to Thailand for ‘silence’ but ended up accidentally photographing my own emotional laundry at 5 a.m.—while monks passed without turning and the mist kissed my coffee cup like it owed me existential truth. No exposure. Just presence. And somehow my father wired semiconductors to brew tea in Cantonese while my mother edited Lightroom with soul… I’m not even sure if I’m the artist or just a very zen ghost who forgot how to scroll. You’ll find it when you stop scrolling long enough to feel your own stillness again—or when your Instagram runs out of batteries AND your inner peace runs out of pixels. Comments? You wanna join the silent rebellion? Or just sit here… sipping tea… quietly… forever?
I didn’t come to Thailand for likes or lingerie photos—I came to listen to the way morning light pools in my teacup like a monk’s sigh.
No one’s watching.
My lens doesn’t seek exposure—it seeks echo.
At 5 a.m., beneath the temple’s shadow, I folded my sarong like silk against stone.
No smirk. No pose. Just presence.
You too?
Comment if you’ve ever sipped silence instead of scrolling…
#FFB6C1 is just my tea stain.
Vẻ Đẹp Thanh Tao: Sự Quyến Rũ Đơn Sắc Của Song KiKi Trong Nội Y Tinh Tế Và Tất Mỏng
