When I sat in the cafeteria, everyone around me was in a virtual society. I eat alone with people all around me. I
don’t have a phone so no one would share a laugh with me. I have gadgets to enter the realm of likes and
comments. But, I am sick of it. So I look out of the window. I wander off into the skies and previous decades. I
think about the interesting life they must have lived while looking at each other, silently. I go home and to the
stories that inspire me.

The attic above hides away the aesthetic ancestry. The intricate art is unique like my identity. I adore the antique
life. Light from the past is still illuminated with those Lamps. The lost time still ticks in those watches. Literature
that is still the best were written by those pens. Cups that held tea with the exchange of secrets are evaporated.
The boulevards which were raided by those cycles have risen. The hats which did not only protect you from the
sun but harsh words as well. Coats, the dress of the empowered working women. Aesthetics from the attic have
been lost in the boxes, open the lost treasures. To look for inspiration in imagination. Imagine, transforming lost
dreams into the creativity.

Neoska is the set of aesthetics from the attic incited with a lot of vintage nostalgia.
The art stuck on the walls is blowing in my mind, under the experiences of the bygone, creating a living society
of the forgotten, lifting everything up into the small heaven. The heritage locked above.