mornings are still. quiet. I am awake by 6:30, even if the alarm clock hasn’t rang yet. I stumble out of the bed, find my way into the kitchen. I am going through one of my phases of drinking an incredibly strong morning coffee. it comes and goes. overnight missed calls and unread message are becoming scarce. I think they’ve figured out that my partying-four-times-until-seven-and-three-days-a-week-until-four-in-the-morning days are over. there’s always one or two from the boy. a morning constant; reading a message from him is how I’ve been starting my day for the past eight or nine months. I cannot even imagine missing out on this part. mornings are blurry, misty. today was particularly bad; strong overcast, dark skies.
I always pass this street on the way to work; there are three or four other ways I could go, but this one is, for some reason, my favorite. it’s dirty, it’s messy. if I am early enough garbage is scattered along the entire length of the sidewalk.
red details. stencil art is quite common in hong kong, although this is probably.. something. I have no idea what it reads. filmmaker would know.
looking up, bamboos, neon signs, old buildings native to kowloon side.
eat together. this is your typical local food establishment. a restaurant is too strong of a word. they are also in a habit of washing and preparing the food outside. on the ground. further down the road, opposite the restaurant is a basketball court. I’ve already spotted the regular morning players. usually there’s an old grandfather who comes out at around eight. today it was wet and deserted. there is not a lot of green in the immediate area surrounding my apartment building, but if you look closer, you’ll find bits and pieces. palms, artificially grown flowers, seasonal tangerines and so on. sometimes the streets smell of lime and papaya.
saigon street. 9.10 am. it felt like nighttime. already at this point, I wondered how was I supposed to get through this day without a scratch. almost, barely. it’ll get better. I am sure.