Posts tagged with "night"

moments between cities

The drive home is always easier. Not because I’m leaving, but because it’s when I can catch my breath after some relentless debauchery I excuse as being for a special occasion.

I’m at an age where my body will feel this over the next two days, spent recovering physically and emotionally. Luckily, exhaustion numbs the senses, and makes the time pass quicker on those long stretches where distance is measured in hours.

driving at night sepia

Cousins, British humour, heartbreak, shots, gluttony, rumble strips, but never enough time.

The 401 is the kind of highway that Springsteen used to write about on his heartland folk albums, the only ones I ever liked. The songs were never about a road itself, but about all the lust and hate and change that happened between two people when they travelled along that road.

In the same way, driving the 401 has always been when I have a chance to find myself. It often leaves me feeling like a different person when I get to where I’m going.

Burning Twice As Bright

I seem to be writing about only one thing lately.

In the day, there are rushes of contentment amidst moments of clarity. Little things, like driving on the highway, feeling the wind ruffle my hair. Waking up to the fresh, cool morning air that signals the oncoming autumn. It all feels great, and for a moment, I can think of nothing else but how wonderful it all is.

The night is another story. The sky draws it’s curtains, leaving me with only haunting memories that turn vivid when the sun no longer washes them out. The darkness is only a reminder of the void she once filled with the very vibrancy of her soul, and without her presence to intoxicate me, I’m left feeling numb.

Jesus christ, I could go on and on.

I wonder why anyone would read all these ramblings about love and loss. Isn’t it just the same shit over and over again? But love is the only thing I do well. Love is the only thing I know, and I can only write that which I know.

In time, I’ll have just as much to say in celebration, but for now, I need to get everything else out of my system, stoking the fires of grief until I run out of fuel.

Praise The Night

Oh, and listen to this.

Sometimes you wish your friends lived far away so you could drive home forever, and sing off-key into the darkness.

But at some point you have to come home and undress, you have to stop the pressure of the water running down your back and step out of the shower, you have to go to bed for the sake of your colon, you have to put aside your thoughts for another day.

There was something about his expression that made you believe that you’re better now. You’re safer. Maybe the realization that your mistakes are your own to make. That you’re stronger now than you ever were, and that people care about you, enough to tell you the truth when it’s the last thing you want to hear.

Praise the night, for this wouldn’t be possible any other time.

Restless Night

Starbucks Coffee

On nights like this, when I’ve been in the house by myself all day, I have a craving for something. Not just for a taste, but an experience, among the lights and the shadows.

A while ago, I found the right place with the right ambiance. A place without the distractions of my house. Where I can write without thinking of what other work I should be doing.

I always tell myself that I’ll go tomorrow. It’s always tomorrow (the same day that most diets start). So I force myself to get in the car and drive.

When I walk in, I have to remember the nomenclature. Tall means small, grande means medium, venti means large.

Along with this craving comes a thirst for something sweet and warm to drink, harking to the days I lived unemployed, and my favourite thing to do was drink all sorts of strong coffees and teas. My stomach will pay for this later.

The cups always feel nice in the hand. Maybe I’m a sucker for good design — the pure white, the clean lines, the textured insulating sleeve with prominent corporate logo.

Sometimes, I need to go out to be alone. A warm drink is company enough.

Hong Kong: Nights

Tung Choi Street (or Ladies’ Market), as seen in my Hong Kong: Markets video as the area covered with blue tarp, is for the ladies, and opened all day.

Temple Street, on the other hand, only starts to come alive at night, and is also known as Men’s Street. There are no stalls out during the day. This is the street that one of my favourite Stephen Chow movies, God of Cookery, is based on, so it was awesome to be able to see it in person.

Instead of handbags, clothes, and posters sold in Ladies’ Market, they sell cheap men-oriented trinkets like batteries, lighters, baseball caps, electronics, camera gear, and sex toys. There’s also a section with rows of stalls for fortune telling (at 2:12), offered in both Chinese and English languages, and European (tarot) and Asian (face, palm reading) flavours.

Temple street is also known for it’s roadside dining, where you can order pots stuffed with meat or deep fried delicacies. I was warned not to eat anything on temple street though, as the standards are too low now1. One might get away with an upset stomach at best, and end up with a trip to the hospital at worst.

Since Temple Street is notoriously shady, where there’s more open prostitution, drug dealings, and other unsavoury activities, I limited my filming on the off-chance that I may have captured something I shouldn’t2. Can you spot the two hookers?

  1. Even my dad won’t eat there anymore, which is saying something. []
  2. During the walk through the stalls, I was yelled at once by a vendor to put my camera away. []