My bedsheets are currently bright yellow and orange, with a hint of fade after countless washes. I have a huge window, at least 1.2m tall and more than 2m across, and it's completely shut.

The panes are heavy, thick frosted patterned glass, and I can only see silhouette when neighbours walk by along the corridor outside.

I like darkness more than light. But when I do like light, I like the quality of light that streams into my room on a bright, sunny day at 5pm. It's like a polaroid.

The time now is 5.40pm. I spent the last 40 minutes listening to 100 種生活 and reading the casualpoet blog.

I spend my life wanting it to become brightly coloured bathed in soft light. This is probably the closest it's been.