Year ago, I already planned when came to the age of 27, somthing special has to be done, either giving a concert, getting a tatto, or traveling to unknown places. I felt like living deadly after 27. Counting-down the days I could live would became my personal daily task.
The reason for these odd thoughts lies in an interesting fact: a lot of talented rock stars died at the age of 27: Kurt Cobian, Jimi Hendrix, Brian Jones, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Robert Johnson, … A list of rockers’ unexpected death makes the normal age a curse. Suicide, drug, disease, murder, alcohol, accident…
Considering 27 has so much unusual significance, I decided to record my life. Being a PHD, being a researcher, I am not a good example. Being a guitarist, being a rocker, I am also too lazy to die. Confiliction occupies my thoughts and life, but I’d like to embrace these troublesome, for them making me real and aware.
That’s the reason for why you can read this. I truely believe man will live more calm and plentfully if he treats every new sun rise as his last day. As claimed to be a rocker, I have to admit it would be my luck if I could survive from this age. To gain the luck, I am starting to record my life, to share with you my thoughts about the world, about my deeply-loved intelligent vehicle, about my bone-spirited rock attitude.
Hello 27, hello all!