It's funny how my trip to IKEA made me an instant architect//interior designer. SNAP SNAP!
For me and my close friend Nikki, IKEA is Disneyland, some sort of Fantasialand. It's crazy, and people might have thought we're both idiots to actually feel each cubicle like our own: live and real. Who cares? We're in Disneyland! How do curtains and windows, beds and sheets, oven and stove unleash the kid in us? Simple, it brings out a certain feeling of hope. The beauty in hope, is the act of hoping itself. You dream. You begin to wonder the when, the how, with whom? You begin to see a life ahead. These furniture doesn't only make a good aesthetic view of houses, it doesn't symbolize a dreamhouse alone, but the dream to live in a home.
I'm neither good in architecture nor interior designing, but I'm good in dreaming. So let me share a dream... (nikki, you can't say you're gonna make something better than this. We only share a dream to live in a home, not a dream to live together.) SNAP SNAP!
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