a wild thing sorry for itself


today was a grey day. it was almost midday when I woke up but that’s just what I needed. the last couple of week(end)s wore me out. I am thinking about new york city, melbourne, oxford. and others. I wrote a little yesterday in the afternoon, enjoyed a double espresso. hong kong is cold. cold and grey. I took out my (red) scarf again. it’s one of my favorite pieces. I am looking for a good book to cuddle up with. I think I am going to pick up the history of love again. that book amazes me every time I read it.

I had a coffee with one of my best friends this afternoon. SoHo park, a cup of coffee, people playing drums below us. we talked about future. everyone is preoccupied with future recently. we’re finishing our last year of high school. things are getting closer. no one wants to leave hong kong. I am not sure what I want. I am not sure what anyone wants. I am returning back to books, films and my dusty notebooks which smell of tobacco. I am trying to convince myself that the words in them have a meaning. and that they are of some relevance. but the more I read them, the less I remember the words. maybe I am just growing up. they are going to end up in a card box at the bottom of a bookshelf anyway. so what does it matter?

christmas is coming up again. the buildings on kowloon side are covered with neon season’s greetings. I cannot believe another year has gone by. but I like the cold. I like how my fingers become stiff, and I like to hold a cup of hot coffee in my hands while walking down a street. I like the way my hairs flies around in the wind, I like how people seem to be walking faster to keep warm. I like how we call it winter even though the temperature doesn’t go below 15 degrees.