By Ni Weifeng

Every morning I wake up in a glass house. Only when I find myself under the cover of night, do I dare let my mind wander freely;

Everyday I roam paranoid streets of probing eyes. Only when they are closed, can I document what I see.

One morning I still will wake up in a glass house. But no one on the outside cares what they see. Only then will I drive my pen;

One day, I will roam streets with clear skies and indifferent eyes. And only then will I dare to speak my mind.

Bio
Ni Weifeng, born in the 1980s, is a blogger and freelance new media researcher. Meanwhile, he works for local and international broadcasters as a planner, fixer and field producer.