Liu started his photography series in 2011 when working in a foreign trade company in Shanghai. Trapped in a bureaucratic system of scissors, staplers and documental work, he felt nothing but exhaustion. However, what disappointed him most were the people around him: there was not a single sign of resistance towards their shared existing predicament. They reminded him of his parents, who worked in Zhejiang and knew nothing about Liu. They repeatedly urged him to “walk on the normal path as everyone else does”. Their communication barrier was indestructible, so Liu gave in and resigned from his job and went back to his parents trying to compromise. It was not until Liu returned to his hometown that he realized that the surroundings he remembered were much more unbearable than ever. People were living merely for fame and money. The differences in opinion over this led to endless quarrels with his parents. All of this time the clock of youth was ticking like a time-bomb (he was 26 years-old then).

Little by little, his long-term depression accumulated to an explosive point that could no longer be held back. “I was anxious about it. I didn’t have much time left; my best time in life was almost over…” Buried in multiple pressures, Liu was forced to go back to Shanghai. “I felt like I was in a tight corner, I was thinking of photography wholeheartedly but nowhere to start, also my parents kept urging me to be like ‘the other people’. But I am myself. I couldn’t be like anyone else. I asked ‘Can’t you accept me as myself?’ in tears. This is the most pathetic situation: families can’t communicate.” From that moment on, Liu held up his camera as his most powerful weapon.