september blues

every day I come closer to being farther away from everything I’d ever known. september rolled in and out without me being able to take proper notice. of anything. three days until october and I am not sure why. I am beginning to feel the consequences from the lack of my time management skills; mostly just physically. four or five hours of sleep have sort of become a regular sleeping pattern under which I succumb once in a while and disappear into deep, disturbing slumber under my duvet for two days. I need one of those two days now. just to sleep and do absolutely nothing else. read, perhaps.

on a different note, today marks an anniversary of something that isn’t even important anymore yet every year I remember. I remember those days back in prague with first love and keep thinking what if things were different. I cannot help it but fall into a strange delirium of nostalgia and sadness. it isn’t that I am not happy right now. it’s just knowing that once things were supposed to be different. things, which passed me by without me being able to stop any of it. it is the greatest irony of this life that when someone tells you they love you, you cannot feel it. but once they stop, you feel it with every single fibre of your being. perhaps, if I stopped lying to him, maybe I would learn how to trust him. oh, the ironies.

writing feels like a tedious task lately. what’s the point? I keep asking myself over and over but nothing. the voices inside my head are always silent when I need answers. so I spend my evenings and nights on the dark side with the boy. indulging in the simplest things life can offer and not think about much else. his presence, his embrace. because what else is there?

mornings are darker and cooler now. soon winter will take over and I will have something else to be nostalgic about.

things I left behind

+ my falling whistle
+ the entire godfather collection including four hours of special features
+ the noble house
+ a book written by george perec, even though it was yours to keep
+ a black jumper (the one that served as a catalyst to it all)
+ a toothbrush (I replaced the one you gave me the first week because it made my gums bleed)
+ a bundle of the size of a pea
+ memories, too many memories that I carry with me everywhere I go
+ a naive notion that perhaps love could evolve from a drunken one night stand

summer days were filled with sleepless nights, glasses of red wine despite the medication labels and what I think were the last bits of hope. but it’s over. he is gone. in a way, I am grateful that I can finally declare that chapter of my life as finished. there is sadness, though. heavy sadness, which weights me down as I realize that despite everything it meant nothing. a fleeting moment in our lives, insignificant as a cough. a misplaced comma. everything continued as if nothing happened, and I think that was the worst part. even now, I am not sure whether the wounds are real or self-inflicted. I wonder whether all of this is just a figment of imagination. just like everything else.

I wonder.

the good things

the symbol of hong kong: bauhunia. fallen flower, pavement, shoes, matching colors.

life has been good to me lately.

+ puppy pile three hour evening naps with the boy.
+ rio; one of the funniest animation films I have seen in a while.
+ when the sun comes out after an afternoon of torrential rain.
+ weekly cinema nights with the boy.
+ days without any physical pain are always good days.
+ being exhausted at the end of the day.
+ writing every day; I have finally bought a new journal after two years of scrap scribbling.
+ evening lychee ice cream is slowly becoming our tradition.
+ a sunday day off spent with the boy: walking around hong kong until our feet ached, sitting for hours in an outside roof garden drinking iced coffee and chocolate, late afternoon al fresco picnic on a piece of grass (avocado chicken panini has never tasted better).
+ laughing, always laughing; holding hands; wearing matching shoes and smiles (in other words, pathetically in love.)
+ incredible, incredible blue sky over hong kong.
+ summer is ending and the air is becoming easier to breathe.
+ the boy gave me my very first bunch of flowers. although I am not a flowers kind of person, it did make my heart smile a little.
+ the simplicity and satisfaction of making coffee in the morning for the family is sometimes enough to make me content.
+ walking to work early in the morning, fresh air and the smell of fruit from the fruit market.

and so on.

one night, one story

1. duck heads. 2. a crossing in mong kong. 3. fish market. 4. lynchee ice cream.

location: hong kong.

8:42 pm. I walked over from yau ma tei to tai kok tsui; the borderless neighborhood between mong kok and prince edward. I like the streets there. ash, oak, pine, beech, elm street. it rained at three blocks only; I stopped for a cigarette, waiting for the clouds to move further up north. the sound of roaring buses and people’s chatter drowned in my headphones and raindrops on the metal rooftops. I kept still; focusing on nothing in particular. people walked past me. I played the same song on repeat and carefully avoided shallow pools of water on the sidewalk. there’s no doorbell at number twenty nine, so I knew somebody would be waiting downstairs.

10:45 pm. we talked through the whole evening. I barely checked the clock but I felt the time passing me by. I learnt a long time ago that his soon means much later and wasn’t bothered by it. bottled mixed drinks were headache inducing but I didn’t care. layers of stories I’d never heard of before were coming up on the surface and I couldn’t stop thinking about what they would look like a piece of paper or a film screen. the human condition and its stories is the only reason why I keep coming back. last night was the perfect time to realize that. somehow, it made sense. at midnight we descended back on the street for a bowl of lychee ice cream with pink chocolate shavings. under the sound of rain drops. she poured her sad soul out and I felt sorry for her. it is going to take a bit more time for me to admit that we are actually the same.

1:35 am. I turned my phone off out of disappointment. his message came at 1:36 am. I will never understand the connection between the two of us but it is there. it has been there since day one.

5:45 am. soft stillness. I fought the urge to fall back asleep and sat up on the bed. some of the wooden parts are beginning to break apart and the bed creaks loudly with every movement. I stumbled in the hallway; my legs find the way to the kitchen automatically. it was still dark and the only source of light were the orange street lamps. dusk till dawn. the busy fruit market below us slowly faded into silence. new day; the same monotony. but I look for the signs, for the details. something that will tell me it’s time. three spoons of coffee, half a spoon of sugar, milk. I walk to work each morning, picking up the remains of the night before, recognizing the imprints on the ground as if there were my own. some time ago, they used to be mine. I am not sure whether I long to return to it.

hello, september

hello, september. please be good to me.
2011, 2010, 2009, 2008.

september days: changing light; daylight turns into twilight a minute earlier. chilly mornings and cooler nights. starbucks brings back the fall beverages; pumpkin and dark cherry mocha. back to school atmosphere everywhere. september means perfect beach days. there is no autumn in hong kong so we pretend. we wear scarves with flip flops and shorts and mini denim jackets over tank tops. the leaves don’t change their color here, so we pretend. we always pretend.

I have awaited september. I have awaited the end of summer for long weeks. in september, the boy celebrates his birthday. today he turns twenty three years old. last night we watched the bourne legacy; glued together in the darkness of the cinema house. cinema nights are becoming a regular thing in our lives and I prefer it greatly to the mess of wan chai. just as we exited, leaving the freezing seats and stepping into a warm night, I remembered. I kind of shrieked at him, bringing his watch up close to show him that it’s five minutes past midnight. happy birthday, you. happy birthday. je t’aime. his sleepy eyes brightened and I hugged him, feeling the remains of cold air underneath his t-shirt. sometimes it is the smallest, silliest moments that make everything okay. maybe some other time, maybe never. before letting me go home, he braided my hair around my head, like a crown. I laughed because I thought he was being ridiculous but he just grew up surrounded by sisters. then the compulsory forehead kiss. without being aware of it, he reminds me that it’s okay to not to be okay because he’s there.

things are turning to better.

a couple of things for the fall:

+ plum skillet cake
+ september wallpaper calendar
+ modern marrakech; adorable color combinations
+ a little longer; for when sunrise comes a little later
+ pinterest obsession, finally.
+ tea lights on a beach, sound of the waves and a glass of wine.
+ coffee candles; I’ve been wanting to try these for a while now.
+ indian summer inspirations
+ book wishlist: pia jane bijerk, susannah conway, kinfolk magazines and nick miller‘s book.
+ a new moleskine journal. it is time.

apart from work, my only other plans for the fall are to write, discover, document, take photographs, spend time with the boy and generally, just try to be content. so far, twenty twelve has been nothing I had expected but there were good moments, too. I want to have more of those.

ps. I am in the process of going through my inboxes and replying to everyone who has been waiting. I haven’t forgotten.