Nightime on the Promenade
So I came back from hanging out with my friends listening to a lousy girl band that think they do grunge music, they're uni kids from China that are in HK for a holiday - I don't know how my friend got to know them, but they sucked. Think that weirdass Japanese girl band in Kill Bill 1 when Uma goes into the Japanese bathhouse to kill Lucy Liu.
Then I got too wired to go to bed so I went walking along the promenade and I started to write. A real letter on paper with pen and stuff. Realized my handwriting was such chicken scratch and would be horrible for anyone's eyesight to read, so instead it's been transcribed into a blog entry! So in a way readers of this blog post will be the lucky recipient of a letter from me in these many years.
"Lucky" is subjective and debatable, I guess. I'm most likely going to write about nothing at all - just random thoughts as I sit here, with the breeze on my face, the night silent and comforting, like a good friend that sits there and says nothing, the mere presence enough to soothe and calm. I love nighttime for this reason. There are no harsh sunrays to show you the ugly realities of the world. You know they're there, but for these few hours the bad and undesirables have gone to bed with the sun.
All you see is purity - the clean lines of the moon, crisp scattering of the stars across the sky like diamonds, mute clouds that cushion the background as pillows for these nocturnal jewels, all divinely arranged on a velvet canvas.
All is quiet, at rest - except for the boats. I'm looking at Aberdeen Fishing Market, from which fishing and gasoline boats continue to ply through the water like so any busy ants in their watery hive, strangely making barely a whisper of a splash. There must be some reason for their industry, I'm just not sure what.
The twinkling stars are reflected down below, not just on the water, but in the multitudes of blinking apartment windows and the lights in them. Funny how I never see the same effect in New York and Singapore. All these skyscraping condominiums that HK is (in)famous for fade into the dark night, their only trace the blinking lights visible from residential units. From afar, they look like columns of starlight. Twinkling and blinking, they dazzle me, because I know behind each star is a home, with people and lives and a story waiting to unfold. Every night these "stars" arrange themselves into a different constellation because time doesn't stop and every day, the story is different. Our mundane everylife, in its own way, reflective of the greater story that is the cosmos, the universe, the earth, the sky, the wind, the stars.
Have you reckoned the earth much? asks Walt Whitman.
I just gaze at the stars above, look back down at the stars below, breathe in the sea air, listen to the waves and am happy to be here.
I am starting to, Mr. Whitman.
Then I got too wired to go to bed so I went walking along the promenade and I started to write. A real letter on paper with pen and stuff. Realized my handwriting was such chicken scratch and would be horrible for anyone's eyesight to read, so instead it's been transcribed into a blog entry! So in a way readers of this blog post will be the lucky recipient of a letter from me in these many years.
"Lucky" is subjective and debatable, I guess. I'm most likely going to write about nothing at all - just random thoughts as I sit here, with the breeze on my face, the night silent and comforting, like a good friend that sits there and says nothing, the mere presence enough to soothe and calm. I love nighttime for this reason. There are no harsh sunrays to show you the ugly realities of the world. You know they're there, but for these few hours the bad and undesirables have gone to bed with the sun.
All you see is purity - the clean lines of the moon, crisp scattering of the stars across the sky like diamonds, mute clouds that cushion the background as pillows for these nocturnal jewels, all divinely arranged on a velvet canvas.
All is quiet, at rest - except for the boats. I'm looking at Aberdeen Fishing Market, from which fishing and gasoline boats continue to ply through the water like so any busy ants in their watery hive, strangely making barely a whisper of a splash. There must be some reason for their industry, I'm just not sure what.
The twinkling stars are reflected down below, not just on the water, but in the multitudes of blinking apartment windows and the lights in them. Funny how I never see the same effect in New York and Singapore. All these skyscraping condominiums that HK is (in)famous for fade into the dark night, their only trace the blinking lights visible from residential units. From afar, they look like columns of starlight. Twinkling and blinking, they dazzle me, because I know behind each star is a home, with people and lives and a story waiting to unfold. Every night these "stars" arrange themselves into a different constellation because time doesn't stop and every day, the story is different. Our mundane everylife, in its own way, reflective of the greater story that is the cosmos, the universe, the earth, the sky, the wind, the stars.
Have you reckoned the earth much? asks Walt Whitman.
I just gaze at the stars above, look back down at the stars below, breathe in the sea air, listen to the waves and am happy to be here.
I am starting to, Mr. Whitman.
posted by tygertyger at 10:27 PM
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