hey mickey

the boy. some time in october. we ate chicken with our hands and looked up at non-existent stars on the sky.

last night.

he didn’t tell me he was coming to pick me up, he just showed up. come, I am downstairs. we bought each other a pair of identical rings and tiny mickey mouse earrings. but I refuse to have my ears pierced. monday didn’t seem like a monday. it was a beautiful day. the weather was clear and sunny. I took trains from one side to the other, getting things done. when the sun began to set down; casting gold glow over city, I returned home. a book, a mug of milk and chocolate. my evenings are becoming simpler and quieter. over the weekend I slept more than thirty hours in total and I was reminded of what it’s like to feel rested. the nice feeling of it. when you can wake up in the middle of the night, thinking it’s time for a new day. but it’s not and you return to the warm layers of blankets and pillows, falling away into sweet slumber.

later in the night, we sat on the stairs below the museum, bustling harbor in front of us. a group of break dancers were having a practice. they were out of sync and it made him nostalgic. as it turns out, he used to dance himself. it wasn’t hard to imagine as much as it was a reminder of how many things I am yet to discover.

we always go back to the night we first met, all the odds against us and everything we will have to do. rarely, we make plans but the thinking about the future is there. quiet, between the lines, it’s there somewhere. the other night, I read through the last three months’ worth of daily writings, which are directed to him. ups and downs, endless nights and blinding sunbeam of days. we have established a number of small rituals, without which I cannot really imagine my life anymore. not because they are somehow meaningful, but because they aren’t.

remembering everything is a good thing, but it also means you will never forget anything. not having to be the sole historian of this relationship makes me relax in a way. knowing that I won’t have to do it all by myself, knowing that he’s there somewhere.

it’s a nice feeling. it makes everything else easier.

volume twenty-five: roadside bar

beginning of november.

perhaps it’s time I admit that I have a certain obsession with red lanterns. but look! they’re so pretty!

one of the hidden bars. and lanterns, of course.

I love these stars that hang at the roadside bar.

overhead light.

budweiser.

pretty candle light.

candle light and esperanza.

it seems like every time I am taking pictures I am drinking a mojito.

november 19


source

for a taurus, the day starts backwards; they wake up tired and they go to bed wide awake.

there are only forty two days left until the end of the year. the past week has gone too quickly; so fast that most our of yoghurts in the fridge have expired in the meantime. I am running out of arguments or justifications for my distrust. soon it will be time to admit that it is simply coming from within me and the mistakes, which I’ve made in the past. I am learning how to live with it, how to let go. however, I did (partially) let go of my disgust when it comes to eggs and ordered a classic english brunch. eggs florentine with a perfect iced coffee and a walk around the seashore of deep water bay made for an easy saturday afternoon. after the re-election, I picked up the audacity of hope after four years and realized that back then I did not understand anything. now the words make sense to me and I am able to relate to them in a strange way. but not even a good book, great food and sangria with cinnamon could make me stay.

I took the bus back to the city, trying not to look at the cemetery when we drove past it. it fills me with melancholy so out of place and time that I cannot describe it properly. the sky was low and it was raining. our words from thursday afternoon kept echoing in my head and I wondered whether I made a mistake by laying all the cards out on the table. I slept through friday night, saturday and sunday afternoon. leaving the house only for necessities and our regular nightly walks around the neighborhood. the wind was strong last night. cardigan weather has made a return and I’ve added a little nutmeg to my cappuccino this morning. the upcoming christmas season is beginning to creep up on me and I am glad it’s winter. in hong kong winter has always, somehow, been better than summer. I am yet to experience a good summer in this city. you will see, one day. they will change their mind. because I am not going anywhere. he laughed and made jokes, but I could see that he was hurt. incredibly, irrevocably hurt. it breaks my heart but I had to be honest.

I know I can’t probably heal those scars but I will do my best. oh man, I will do my best.