“Five years have passed. The last conversation we had was about my job in the city, routine though it was, which I had just recently started. You told me what happened at the studio, about how everyone was busy with the new project, and that we should see each other again soon. I go back and read through our chats when I miss you. I read them with your voice. It is both warm and safe at the same time.”

The stories of rubber-tapping, film archives from Sumatra to Amsterdam, a plantation along the coastline of Thailand, a tunnel, a park at sunset, and a personal experience that are buried under the memory, while each tells its own unique story, they all share one commonality: a dream.

This threshold between waking and sleeping weaves these stories together.