daily routines


I am finding it hard to wake up in the morning. it takes three or four alarm clocks before I get up, then another couple of hours before I actually wake up. I kind of miss the morning writing routine. a cup of coffee, cereals, music. last winter it was a habit. maybe I will find a way how to return to it because I certainly need to be writing more. I am not really working on anything at the moment — screenplays and short stories which I mentioned a few weeks back have been put to ice due to lack of time to actually do anything. it’s the last semester of this year; there are exactly five weeks left and I don’t know which assignment to do first. world lit paper is hanging over me like a black cloud, not to mention three orals (why do they call it oral, why not simply presentation), which are due by the end of this month. and I don’t even want to think about my internals or extended essay. no, thank you. I would like to spend some more time pretending to be Peter Pan.

anyway. I am enjoying myself. really. this time of the year in hong kong is simply my favorite. the weather suits me, there is seems to be more to explore around the city, more people to meet and more films to see. this month, I am planning on buying tickets for a number of films of the french film festival in hong kong. including films of jean luc godard, which are a part of the celebration of 50th anniversary of french new wave cinema. it’s been a while since I have attended a film festival, I miss the atmosphere of it. going to a regular cinema is not quite the same. speaking of cinema, I’ve seen the Informant! — which I think is a good film, probably just didn’t suit my mood at the time. there’s too much talking in it. and no point whatsoever. but that’s not to say that I’ve stopped loving matt damon. then there’s This It Is. which completely swept me off the feet and kicked me in the ass. literally. ever since I have seen it I look at michael jackson from a entirely different point of view. that public persona, which I hated for so many years, is not the first thing I think of when someone mentions his name anymore. it’s his music and it’s the only thing that’s really left. if anything at all, I am glad I have changed my mind about him and it was the movie that did it for me. so thanks, kenny ortega.

and other than all this, there isn’t much I could write about. the last few weeks have been amazing in many ways. it will be great to see the rest of the year be like that as well. it may sound strange, but I think I am getting to know hong kong from another perspective. (this entire post makes me think I should watch house again and get a grip.) what else is there really?

or you called me up, maybe i wasn’t home

i walked around hong kong tonight feeling calm and peaceful. i walked three hours without stopping letting myself to be led by my legs without thinking. i feel as if i know the city. as if it lets me on its secrets it whispers it hums and it lets me listen without interruption. kilometers of streets and districts, each more familiar than the previous one. stopping for a cup of coffee made me realize that i have my own barista at four different starbucks. each period is being served a different type of coffee and lately i’ve found myself drinking only hot vanilla latte. but i’ve been thinking about vietnam a lot so i ordered caramel macchiato. a drink we drank every morning and evening for six days straight without skipping. i like having small insignificant traditions, which have a memory attached to them. but sometimes there are just burden.

i thought of the summer two years ago while walking star avenue having been reminded of a friend whom i haven’t seen for just as long. i wrote a letter to him just a few nights ago. i couldn’t sleep. i couldn’t write anything else. and tonight for the first time i actually thought of him. it’s strange how people disappear. it’s strange how we lose each other without saying goodbye because you never really know when the moment is going to come. the moment when you realize that we are gone. i wanted to watch elizabethtown but i couldn’t find it anywhere.

and the plague by albert camus — i prefer books written with a personal touch. the style of the plague, the chronology of events, descriptions of characters and places somehow prevent me from actually losing myself in the book. i read but i still notice the world around me. i can never like the book if i am not absolutely absorbed by it. but camus is not the only instance of me being unable to drift away. i wake up not remembering my dreams not knowing whether i was dreaming at all. three o’clock in the morning is the devil’s hour and i wonder why i am always conscious of this hour.

amadou & mariam

Amadou and Mariam are a musical duo from Mali, composed of the couple Mariam Doumbia and Amadou Bagayoko. The pair, known as the blind couple from Mali met at Mali’s Institute for the Young Blind, and found they shared an interest in music. The duo produces music that mixes traditional Mali sound with rock guitars, Syrian violins, Cuban trumpets, Egyptian ney, Colombian trombones, Indian tablas and Dogon percussion. All these elements put together have been referred to as Afro-blues.

i fell in love with their music. i needed to share it with the world.

download welcome to mali.