I find the auspicious night the most calm when the soft curving sound of Brass and the smooth melody of the black and white keys whisk about my head, minding its own business around the spectator that I am fortunate to become. The hall is pitch black with glimmers of cream yellow light shining towards the silk red stage, of a similar texture and tone to the table cloth I quickly fidget with anticipation. The air swirls with cigar smoke and incense, sailing with a hint of lavender and burnt, rich carotene.
Crimson petals array themselves on the illuminated rectangular table for two. Adjusting the black, double windsor knot tie, my eyes on the environment never fails to disappoint my perception of the human mind as opportunistically random in nature: men with their silvers clanker their plates to finish what is left of what the white coats introduce to their tabletop, dark silhouettes in the back with their devices and eyeholes make frames of history from the gorgeous figure on the stage, and all the polishing, cleaning, devising, organizing, and acts of variety of professions establish a cornerstone of the epitome of the society I embark with.
From silence, I hear the soft pulsation, soaring from the heart of my soul. I fail to notice the main act that is to happen under the warm light, and close the lips of my eyes for what seems like a year. My sweaty hands drift over my smooth, shaven head. It nears with every second: the auspicious becomes the inauspicious, the red becomes dark, bloody red, the men become devils, and the seat across from me becomes a loose.
The heavy beats of my chest become sudden, sporadic beats of the stage drums. Something sparks in the heart, and the pulsating draws its peak. Beads of sweat roll down my chin, and the neck itches uncontrollably. In the middle of a textbook definition jazz party, even when all is seemingly calm, my body is visible to none on this stage of men.
The night of the deceased - lives on.
Good evening,
It's been a while since I posted. Midterms and all that kept me at my absence.
This week, I managed to get a two day trip to South Korea. Below, I will show you some pictures I took.
Near the coastside of the island in the middle of the Han river (한강) is a detached island-like ground that gathers a lot of tourist attraction. The Sakura flowers bloom beautifully during the fertile days of Spring; I, however, missed the good chance, as I came too early.
The seagulls glide around the coastside, minding their own business.
I recall a fun activity I used to play as a rugby team photographer back in High school, where I would practice taking high shutter speed photos of thrown rugby balls in the air. I aim my camera, and recall the memories with the birds.
Walk a few kilometers inland and you find an IFC mall, surrounded with Finance company buildings. Unlike hong kong, the streets are deserted, and the only form of life is I.
The true purpose of my visit to Korea was to have a short holiday to cope with a splitting sensation of my brain's hemispheres.
There is a certain limit to one's study load. I call it the breaking point. I usually cannot focus or think of anything after this point, and a short break is required. I am, for once, happy to have some time to myself.
I return back to the center of Seoul to take some pictures. There is this big bridge near the Seoul Metro Station, and I witness a beautiful sight.
The weather is still relatively cold compared to Hong Kong. With my camera bag, two layers of jacket and food, I walk down two streets.
I get scared time to time when I cannot think as well as I did before. This dull feeling is something I cannot describe; I'm sure many students can relate.
My midterms are done, but the finals are coming up. This small victory cannot guarantee the war. The vapor from my mouth drifts away into the sunset.
I return to Hong Kong, and I am hit with news that I wont be seeing a high school friend of mine again.
I attend his funeral, and the sorrow of the world descends on the family.
The suicide rate of Hong Kong for students, on the contrary, ascend every year.