mong kok road + shanghai street corner.
oh, summer. here you are. you’ve come with all you got, definitely. the heat, the humidity, all of it. may was pathetic. it rained for three weeks straight, clouds hung low over the city, like a threat. daily grayness, the gloom. everyone hates it, but I hate it the most. as if to console myself, I came up with project ideas, noted down some basis guidelines to go along with and then I forgot about it. something else came up. I am not sure what it was anymore. something, someone. the rain distracted me, made me sleepy. I’d slept through the entire month. full-blown anti-social mode. I spent every single of my days off at home. watching television, ordering takeout food, drinking copious amounts of coffee and home-made cocktails. and if I did venture out, it was only to tsim sha tsui. roadside bar, or the pizza place across the street. one night with my father, we sat there and ate dinner together. I threw everything up later. my favorite spaghetti alle vongole and I haven’t had seafood since then. I wowed not go out again. it doesn’t interest me anymore.
kowloon bay is where I spend most of my days. our new office is spacious and I like working from there. morning commute is the same, day after day, nothing changes. I prefer iced coffee now; hazelnut macchiato. they should keep it on the menu the whole year. and what’s worse, I drink coffee at night now. I sleep an average of ten hours a day, on the days when I sleep the least. currently, sleep is the only thing I actively enjoy taking part in. at least during this period, which I don’t know what I should call. exhaustion, boredom, burnt out. all of the above. and yet, everything is good. life is good.
with one exception. a couple of days ago, the boy and I argued the whole day. about nothing. she said, he said. but neither meant anything. after I finished my shift, we spent two hours on the phone. it took the wrong turn at some point and there was no coming back. some horrible things were said, the whole world stopped a few times. everything turned dark and black and depressing. I drank until I stopped counting how many I’d had and then I drank some more. I was alone and I made a new friend. not sure what would have really happened if the stranger was not there to keep me company. to keep me sane. I returned to our apartment and expected the worst. out of anger, I washed the dishes instead of being confronted. it was comical. I avoided eye contact at all cost. then came the sinuses. on that same night. I wondered whether it was supposed to be some cruel joke. not unlike the tennis ball, but then it turned out to be otherwise. I spent the night in agony. seeing me like this, fragile, in pain, in an awful state of mind; the boy put his weapons down and took care of me. neither one of us apologized the next day, again.
but he said to me, how could I leave you? you wouldn’t survive a single day. it offended me, but perhaps, he was right. june first. eighth summer in hong kong. maybe, maybe, this could be a nice one.