Yearly Archives: 2009

Flirting With Disconnection

I had been writing non-stop for weeks. I’m not sure if it was restlessness, or if I had too much to get off my chest, or what. Sometimes I wrote two or three entries at the same time, because my mind went off in so many different directions. It’s always been a habit to over-analyze things.

Then at some point, the world stopped making sense. My mind went blank, leaving me with nothing to say. It’s like my brain had given up on trying to figure it all out. I guess it’s better than thinking too much.

I feel so distant from everything now. A strange numbness, unlike anything I’ve felt before. The things that used to matter don’t seem important anymore. Or maybe I just stopped caring.

Every now and then, I get a surge of emotion, and I’m unsure of whether I should fight it or embrace it.

Pauses and Mistakes

Sometimes, I wish she’d kiss me first.

Other times, I wish she’d kiss me back.

Goodbye, Hong Kong

I’ll miss the way you comfort me with crowds. I’ll miss the smells of your streets. I’ll miss your alleys and their stories. I’ll miss your mix of classical and contemporary. I’ll miss the diversity of your food.

You made me feel comfortable, like I belonged somewhere, and with all your rich and somewhat mysterious culture, renewed my pride in being Chinese.

It’ll be a long time before I see you again.

Goodbye, you beautiful city. I miss you already.

Leaving Grandma

Grandma’s kids are lined up to visit over the next few months, each staying with her a few weeks at a time. An uncle flew in a few days before my dad and I left, and another aunt has arrived since.

Grandma says the house will be empty when my uncle leaves, completely forgetting that my aunt who’s already there has given up her life to be with her indefinitely. We joke that she’s just another maid to grandma now. Her memory remains patchy; sometimes she’s lucid, sometimes she’s lost.

I wonder if she’ll even remember if I was here.

Leaving was hard. My aunt hugged me long, told me she’d miss me through the lump in her throat, and promptly went to the bedroom to compose herself. Knowing it was the last time I was going to see her, I hugged and kissed my grandma as much as I could. It was an effort not to cry. Even the maid wiped a tear from her eye with the back of her hand, but none of the other men did, and I wonder if they would have, had they not been in the presence of other men.

As we were leaving, she handed me a red envelope, and told us to visit her again soon. It was a relief to know that she’s still unconscious of her terminal condition, but the reminder that I would never see her again broke my heart.

What a strange feeling it is to know that she’s still alive on the other side of the world, while I’m here, unable to be with her. For now, I’m happy and relieved that I had the chance to express myself to her, and film her, and capture her image.

Cat Street

Upper Lascar Row, also known as Cat Street, is a narrow alleyway market that sells decorations, trinkets, and antiques. It’s not quite like other Hong Kong markets because it’s less commercialized (i.e. doesn’t sell as many touristy things), even though the most common buyers there seem to be foreign.

The name comes from a joke in Chinese: it’s said that if you have something stolen, you’re likely to find it for sale on Cat Street. Thieves are known as “rats” in Cantonese slang, and people who purchase goods from rats are called “cats”.